PRINCETON,   N.  J. 


Shelf.. 


I 


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SERMONS 


BY  THE 


RIGHT   REVEREND    FATHER   IN  GOD, 


/ 

JOSEPH  BUTLER,  D.C.L., 


LATE 


LORD  BISHOP  OF  DURHAM. 


NEW  TOEK: 
ROBERT    CARTER    &  BROTHERS, 

No.    5  30  BROADWAY. 
1860. 


PREFACE. 


Though  it  is  scarce  possible  to  avoid  judging,  in  some 
way  or  other,  of  almost  every  thing  which  offers  itself  to 
one's  thoughts  ;  yet  it  is  certain,  that  many  persons,  from 
different  causes,  never  exercise  their  judgment,  upon 
what  comes  before  them,  in  the  way  of  determining  whe- 
ther it  be  conclusive,  and  holds.  They  are  perhaps  enter- 
tained with  some  things,  not  so  with  others ;  they  like, 
and  they  dislike  :  but  whether  that  which  is  proposed  to 
be  made  out  be  really  made  out  or  not;  whether  a  matter 
be  stated  according  to  the  real  truth  of  the  case,  seems  to 
the  generality  of  people  merely  a  circumstance  of  no  con- 
sideration at  all.  Arguments  are  often  wanted  for  some 
accidental  purpose:  but  proof,  as  such,  is  what  they  never 
want  for  themselves ;  for  their  own  satisfaction  of  mind, 
or  conduct  in  life.  Not  to  mention  the  multitudes  who 
read  merely  for  the  sake  of  talking,  or  to  qualify  them- 
selves for  the  world,  or  some  such  kind  of  reasons;  there 
are,  even  of  the  few  who  read  for  their  own  entertain 
ment,  and  have  a  real  curiosity  to  see  what  is  said,  seve- 
ral, which  is  prodigious,  who  have  no  sort  of  curiosity 
to  see  what  is  true:  I  say,  curiosity;  because  it  is  too  ob- 
vious to  be  mentioned,  how  much  that  religious  and  sa- 
cred attention,  which  is  due  to  truth,  and  to  the  impor- 
tant question,  What  is  the  rule  of  life  ?  is  lost  out  of  the 
world. 

For  the  sake  of  this  whole  class  of  readers,  for  they 
are  of  different  capacities,  different  kinds,  and  get  into 
this  way  from  different  occasions,  I  have  often  wished 
that  it  had  been  the  custom  to  lay  before  people  nothing 
in'  matters  of  argument  but  premises,  and  leave  them  to 
draw  conclusions  themselves  ;  which,  though  it  could  not 
be  done  in  all  cases,  might  in  many. 

The  great  number  of  books  and  papers  of  amusement, 


iv 


PREFACE. 


which,  of  one  kind  or  another,  daily  come  in  one's  way, 
have  in  part  occasioned,  and  most  perfectly  fall  in  with 
and  humour,  this  idle  way  of  reading  and  considering 
things.  By  this  means,  time  even  in  solitude  is  happily 
got  rid  of,  without  the  pain  of  attention:  neither  is 
any  part  of  it  more  put  to  the  account  of  idleness,  one 
can  scarce  forbear  saying,  is  spent  with  less  thought, 
than  great  part  of  that  which  is  spent  in  reading. 

Thus  people  habituate  themselves  to  let  things  pass 
through  their  minds,  as  one  may  speak,  rather  than  to 
think  of  them.  Thus  by  use  they  become  satisfied 
merely  with  seeing  what  is  said,  without  going  any  fur- 
ther. Review  and  attention,  and  even  forming  a  judg- 
ment, becomes  fatigue ;  and  to  lay  any  thing  before  them 
that  requires  it,  is  putting  them  quite  out  of  their  way. 

There  are  also  persons,  and  there  are  at  least  more 
of  them  than  have  a  right  to  claim  such  superiority,  who 
take  for  granted,  that  they  are  acquainted  with  every 
thing;  and  that  no  subject,  if  treated  in  the  manner  it 
should  be,  can  be  treated  in  any  manner  but  what  is 
familiar  and  easy  to  them. 

It  is  true  indeed,  that  few  persons  have  a  right  to  de- 
mand attention;  but  it  is  also  true,  that  nothing  can  be 
understood  without  that  degree  of  it,  which  the  very  na- 
ture of  the  thing  requires.  Now  morals,  considered  as 
a  science,  concerning  which  speculative  difficulties  are 
daily  raised,  and  treated  with  regard  to  those  difficulties, 
plainly  require  a  very  peculiar  attention.  For  here 
ideas  never  are  in  themselves  determinate,  but  become 
so  by  the  train  of  reasoning  and  the  place  they  stand  in ; 
since  it  is  impossible  that  words  can  always  stand  foi 
the  same  ideas,  even  in  the  same  author,  much  less  in 
different  ones.  Hence  an  argument  may  not  readily  be 
apprehended,  which  is  different  from  its  being  mistak- 
en; and  even  caution  to  avoid  being  mistaken  may,  in 
some  cases,  render  :;t  less  readily  apprehended.  It  is 
very  unallowable  foT  j  w>>rk  of  imagination  or  entertain- 
ment not  to  be  of  easy  comprehension,  but  may  be  una- 
voidable in  a  work  of  another  kind,  where  a  man  is  not 
to  form  or  accommodate,  but  to  state  things  as  he  finds 
them. 


PREFACE. 


V 


It  must  be  acknowledged,  that  some  of  the  following 
Discourses  are  very  abstruse  and  difficult;  or,  if  ypu 
please,  obscure ;  but  I  must  take  leave  to  add,  that  those 
alone  are  judges,  whether  or  no  and  how  far  this  is  a 
fault,  who  are  judges,  whether  or  no  and  how  far  it  might 
have  been  avoided  —those  only  who  will  be  at  the  trou- 
ble to  understand  what  is  here  said,  and  to  see  how  far 
the  things  here  insisted  upon,  and  not  other  things,  might 
have  been  put  in  a  plainer  manner;  which  yet  I  am  very 
far  from  asserting  that  they  could  not. 

Thus  much  however  will  be  allowed,  that  general 
criticisms  concerning  obscurity  considered  as  a  distinct 
thing  from  confusion  and  perplexity  of  thought,  as  in 
some  cases  there  may  be  ground  for  them ;  so  in 
others,  they  may  be  nothing  more  at  the  bottom  than 
complaints,  that  every  thing  is  not  to  be  understood  with 
the  same  ease  that  some  things  are.  Confusion  and 
perplexity  in  writing  is  indeed  without  excuse,  because 
any  one  may,  if  he  pleases,  know  whether  he  understands 
and  sees  through  what  he  is  about :  and  it  is  unpardon- 
able for  a  man  to  lay  his  thoughts  before  others,  when 
he  is  conscious  that  he  himself  does  not  know  whereabouts 
he  is,  or  how  the  matter  before  him  stands.  It  is  com- 
ing abroad  in  disorder,  which  he  ought  to  be  dissatisfied 
to  find  himself  in  at  home. 

But  even  obscurities  arising  from  other  causes  than 
the  abstruseness  of  the  argument  may  not  be  always 
inexcusable.  Thus  a  subject  may  be  treated  in  a  man- 
ner, which  all  along  supposes  the  reader  acquainted  with 
what  has  been  said  upon  it,  both  by  ancient  and  modern 
writers ;  and  with  what  is  the  present  state  of  opinion  in 
the  world  concerning  such  subject.  This  will  create  a 
difficulty  of  a  very  peculiar  kind,  and  even  throw  an 
obscurity  over  the  whole  before  those  who  are  not  thus 
informed ;  but  those  who  are  will  be  disposed  to  excuse 
such  a  manner,  and  other  things  of  the  like  kind,  as  a 
saving  of  their  patience. 

However  upon  the  whole,  as  the  title  of  Sermons  gives 
«ome  right  to  expect  what  is  pLin  and  of  easy  compre- 
hension, and  as  the  best  auditories  are  mixed,  I  shall  not 
§et  about  to  justify  the  propriety  of  preaching,  or  under 


PREFACE, 


that  title  publishing,  Discourses  so  abstruse  as  some  ol 
these  are :  neither  is  it  worth  while  to  trouble  the  reader 
with  the  account  of  my  doing  either.  He  must  not  how- 
ever impute  to  me,  as  a  repetition  of  the  impropriety,  this 
second  edition,  *  but  to  the  demand  for  it. 

Whether  he  will  think  he  has  any  amends  made  him 
by  the  following  illustrations  of  what  seemed  most  to 
require  them,  I  myself  am  by  no  means  a  proper  judge. 

There  are  two  ways  in  which  the  subject  of  morals 
may  be  treated.  One  begins  from  inquiring  into  the 
abstract  relations  of  things:  the  other  from  a  matter  of 
fact,  namely,  what  the  particular  nature  of  man  is,  its 
several  parts,  their  economy  or  constitution ;  from 
whence  it  proceeds  to  determine  what  course  of  life  it 
is,  which  is  correspondent  to  this  whole  nature.  In  the 
former  method  the  conclusion  is  expressed  thus,  that 
vice  is  contrary  to  the  nature  and  reason  of  things:  in 
the  latter,  that  it  is  a  violation  or  breaking  in  upon  our 
own  nature.  Thus  they  both  lead  us  to  the  same  thing, 
our  obligations  to  the  practice  of  virtue;  and  thus  they 
exceedingly  strengthen  and  enforce  each  other.  The 
first  seems  the  most  direct  formal  proof,  and  in  some 
respects  the  least  liable  to  cavil  and  dispute:  the  latter 
is  in  a  peculiar  manner  adapted  to  satisfy  a  fair  mind; 
and  is  more  easily  applicable  to  the  several  particular 
relations  and  circumstances  in  life. 

The  following  Discourses  proceed  chiefly  in  this  latter 
method.  The  three  first  wholly.  They  were  intended 
to  explain  what  is  meant  by  the  nature  of  man,  when  it 
is  said  that  virtue  consists  in  following,  and  vice  in 
deviating  from  it;  and  by  explaining  to  show  that  the 
assertion  is  true.  That  the  ancient  moralists  had  some 
inward  feeling  or  other,  which  they  chose  to  express  in 
this  manner,  that  man  is  born  to  virtue,  that  it  consists 
in  following  nature,  and  that  vice  is  more  contrary  to 
this  nature  than  tortures  or  death,  their  works  in  our 
hands  are  instances.  Now  a  person  who  found  no 
mystery  in  this  way  of  speaking  of  the  ancients;  who, 
without  being  very  explicit  with  himself,  kept  to  his 
natural  feeling,  went  along  with  them,  and  found  within 

*  The  preface  stands  exactly  as  it  did  before  the  second  edition  of  the  Sermons. 


PREFACE. 


I 

vi  i 


himself  a  full  conviction,  that  what  they  laid  down  was 
iust  and  true;  such  a  one  would  probably  wonder  to  see 
a  point,  in  which  he  never  perceived  any  difficulty,  so 
laboured  as  this  is,  in  the  second  and  third  Sermons; 
insomuch  perhaps  as  to  be  at  a  loss  for  the  occasion, 
scope,  and  drift  of  t'hem.  But  it  need  not  be  thought 
strange  that  this  manner  of  expression,  though  familiar 
with  them,  and,  if  not  usually  carried  so  far,  yet  not 
uncommon  amongst  ourselves,  should  want  explaining ; 
since  there  are  several  perceptions  daily  felt  and  spoken 
of,  which  yet  it  may  not  be  very  easy  at  first  view  to 
explicate,  to  distinguish  from  all  others,  and  ascertain 
exactly  what  the  idea  or  perception  is.  The  many 
treatises  upon  the  passions  are  a  proof  of  this;  since  so 
many  would  never  have  undertaken  to  unfold  their 
several  complications,  and  trace  and  resolve  them  into 
their  principles,  if  they  had  thought,  what  they  were 
endeavouring  to  show  was  obvious  to  every  one,  who 
felt  and  talked  of  those  passions.  Thus,  though  there 
seems  no  ground  to  doubt,  but  that  the  generality  of 
mankind  have  the  inward  perception  expressed  st)  com- 
monly in  that  manner  by  the  ancient  moralists,  more 
than  to  doubt  whether  they  have  those  passions;  yet  it 
appeared  Of  use  to  unfold  tnat  inward  conviction,  and 
lay  it  open  in  a  more  explicit  manner,  than  I  had  seen 
done;  especially  when  there  were  not  wanting  persons, 
who  manifestly  mistook  the  whole  thing,  and  so  had 
great  reason  to  express  themselves  dissatisfied  with  it. 
A  late  author  of  great  and  deserved  reputation  says, 
that  to  place  virtue  in  following  nature,  is  at  best  a  loose 
way  of  talk.  And  he  has  reason  to  say  this,  if  what  I 
think  he  intends  to  express,  though  with  great  decency, 
he  true,  that  scarce  any  other  sense  can  be  put  upon 
those  words,  but  acting  as  any  of  the  several  parts, 
without  distinction,  of  a  man's  nature  happened  most  to 
incline  him.* 

Whoever  thinks  it  worth  while  to  consider  this  matter 
thoroughly,  should  begin  with  stating  to  himself  exactly 
the  idea  of  a  system,  economy,  or  constitution  of  any 
particular  nature,  or  particular  any  thing:  and  he  will, 

*  ReL  of  Nature  Delln.  od.  1724.  pp.  22,  23. 


PREFACE. 


I  suppose,  find,  that  it  is  a  one  or  a  whole,  made  up  of 
several  parts;  but  yet,  that  the  several  parts  even  con- 
sidered as  a  whole  do  not  complete  the  idea,  unless  in 
the  notion  of  a  whole  you  include  the  relations  and 
respects  which  those  parts  have  to  each  other.  Every 
work  both  of  nature  and  of  art  is  a  system:  and  as  every 
particular  thing,  both  natural  and  artificial,  is  for  some 
use  or  purpose  out  of  and  beyond  itself,  one  may  add, 
to  what  has  been  already  brought  into  the  idea  of  a  sys- 
tem, its  conduciveness  to  this  one  or  more  ends.  Let 
us  instance  in  a  watch — Suppose  the  several  parts  of  it 
taken  to  pieces,  and  placed  apart  from  each  other;  let  a 
man  have  ever  so  exact  a  notion  of  these  several  parts, 
unless  he  considers  the  respects  and  relations  which  they 
have  to  each  other,  he  will  not  have  any  thing  like  the 
idea  of  a  watch.  Suppose  these  several  parts  brought 
together  and  any  how  united:  neither  will  he  yet,  be  the 
union  ever  so  close,  have  an  idea  which  will  bear  any 
resemblance  to  that  of  a  watch.  But  let  him  view  those 
several  parts  put  together,  or  consider  them  as  to  be 
put  together  in  the  manner  of  a  watch;  let  him  form  a 
notion  of  the  relations  which  those  several  parts  have  to 
each  other — all  conducive  in  their  respective  ways  to 
this  purpose,  showing  the  hour  of  the  day;  and  then  he 
has  the  idea  of  a  watch.  Thus  it  is  with  regard  to  the 
inward  frame  of  man.  Appetites,  passions,  affections, 
and  the  principle  of  reflection,  considered  merely  as  the 
several  parts  of  our  inward  nature,  do  not  at  all  give  us 
an  idea  of  the  system  or  constitution  of  this  nature; 
because  the  constitution  is  formed  by  somewhat  not  yet 
taken  into  consideration,  namely,  by  the  relations  which 
these  several  t)arts  have  to  each  other;  the  chief  of  which 
is  the  authority  of  reflection  or  conscience.  It  is  from 
considering  the  relations  which  the  several  appetites  and 
passions  in  the  inward  frame  have  to  each  other,  and, 
above  all,  the  supremacy  of  reflection  or  conscience,  that 
we  get  the  idea  of  the  system  or  constitution  of  human 
nature.  And  from  the  idea  itself  it  will  as  fully  appear, 
that  this  our  nature,  i.e.  constitution,  is  adapted  to  virtue, 
as  from  the  idea  of  a  watch  it  appears,  that  its  nature, 
I.  e.  constitution  or  svstem,  is  adapted  to  measure  time. 


PREFACE. 


is 


What  in  fact  or  event  commonly  happens  is  nothing  to 
this  question.  Every  work  of  art  is  apt  to  be  out  of 
order:  but  this  is  so  far  from  being  according  to  its 
system,  that  let  the  disorder  increase,  and  it  will  totally 
destroy  it.  This  is  merely  by  way  of  explanation,  what 
an  economy,  system,  or  constitution  is.  And  thus  far 
the  cases  are  perfectly  parallel.  If  we  go  further,  there 
is  indeed  a  difference,  nothing  to  the  present  purpose, 
but  too  important  a  one  ever  to  be  omitted.  A  machine 
is  inanimate  and  passive:  but  we  are  agents.  Our  con- 
stitution is  put  in  our  own  power.  We  are  charged 
with  it;  and  therefore  are  accountable  for  any  disorder 
or  violation  of  it. 

Thus  nothing  can  possibly  be  more  contrary  to  nature 
than  vice ;  meaning  by  nature  not  only  the  several  parts 
of  our  internal  frame,  but  also  the  constitution  of  it. 
Poverty  and  disgrace,  tortures  and  death,  are  not  so 
contrary  to  it.  Misery  and  injustice  are  indeed  equally 
contrary  to  some  different  parts  of  our  nature  taken 
singly:  but  injustice  is  moreover  contrary  to  the  whole 
constitution  of  the  natute. 

If  it  be  asked,  whether  this  constitution  be  really 
what  those  philosophers  meant,  and  whether  they  would 
have  explained  themselves  in  this  manner ;  the  answer 
is  the  same,  as  if  it  should  be  asked,  whether  a  person, 
who  had  often  used  the  word  resentment,  and  felt  the 
thing,  would  have  explained  this  passion  exactly  in  the 
same  manner,  in  which  it  is  done  in  one  of  these  Dis- 
courses. As  I  have  no  doubt,  but  that  this  is  a  true 
account  of  that  passion,  which  he  referred  to  and  intend- 
ed to  express  by  the  word  resentment ;  so  I  have  no 
doubt,  but  that  this  is  the  true  account  of  the  ground  of 
that  conviction  which  they  referred  to,  when  they  said,, 
vice  was  contrary  to  nature.  And  though  it  should  be 
thought  that  they  meant  no  more  than  that  vice  was 
contrary  to  the  higher  and  better  part  of  our  nature ; 
even  this  implies  such  a  constitution  as  I  have  endea- 
voured to  explain.  For  the  very  terms,  higher  and 
better,  imply  a  relation  or  respect  of  parts  to  each  other; 
and  these  relative  parts,  being  in  one  and  the  same  na- 
ture, form  a  constitution,  and  are  the  very  idea  of  it 


X 


PREFACE. 


They  had  a  perception  that  injustice  was  contrary  to 
their  nature,  and  that  pain  was  so  also.  They  observed 
these  two  perceptions  totally  different,  not  in  degree, 
but  in  kind:  and  the  reflecting  upon  each  of  them,  as 
they  thus  stood  in  their  nature,  wrought  a  full  intuitive 
conviction,  that  more  was  due  and  of  right  belonged  to 
one  of -these  inward  perceptions,  than  to  the  other;  that 
it  demanded  in  all  cases  to  govern  such  a  creature  as 
man.  So  that,  upon  the  whole,  this  is  a  fair  and  true 
account  of  what  was  the  ground  of  their  conviction ;  of 
what  they  intended  to  refer  to,  when  they  said,  virtue 
consisted  in  following  nature:  a  manner  of  speaking  not 
loose  and  undeterminate,  but  clear  and  distinct,  strictly 
just  and  true. 

Though  I  am  persuaded  the  force  of  this  conviction  is 
felt  by  almost  every  one;  yet  since,  considered  as  an 
argument  and  put  in  words,  it  appears  somewhat  abstruse, 
and  since  the  connexion  of  it  is  broken  in  the  three  first 
Sermons,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  give  the  reader  the 
vvhole  argument  here  in  one  view. 

Mankind  has  various  instincts  and  principles  of  action, 
is  brute  creatures  have;  some  leading  most  directly  and 
mmediately  to  the  good  of  the  community,  and  some 
nost  directly  to  private  good. 

Man  has  several  which  brutes  have  not;  particularly 
-eflection  or  conscience,  an  approbation  of  some  princi- 
ples or  actions,  and  disapprobation  of  others. 

Brutes  obey  their  instincts  or  principles  of  action, 
according  to  certain  rules;  suppose  the  constitution  of 
their  body,  and  the  objects  around  them. 

The  generality  of  mankind  also  obey  their  instincts 
and  principles,  all  of  them;  those  propensions  we  call 
good,  as  well  as  the  bad,  according  to  the  same  rules; 
namely,  the  constitution  of  their  body,  and  the  external 
circumstances  which  they  are  in.  [Therefore  it  is  not 
a  true  representation  of  mankind  to  affirm,  that  they 
are  wholly  governed  by  self-love,  the  love  of  power,  and 
sensual  appetites:  since,  as  on  the  one  hand  they  are 
often  actuated  by  these,  without  any  regard  to  right  or 
wrong;  so  on  the  other  it  is  manifest  fact,  that  the  same 
persons,  the  generality,  are  frequently  influenced  by 


PREFACE. 


M 


friendship,  compassion,  gratitude  ;  and  even  a  general 
abhorrence  of  what  is  base,  and  liking  of  what  is  fair 
and  just,  takes  its  turn  amongst  the  other  motives  of 
action.  This  is  the  partial  inadequate  notion  of  human 
nature  treated  of  in  the  first  Discourse:  and  it  is  by  this 
nature,  if  one  may  speak  so,  that  the  world  is  in  fact 
influenced,  and  kept  in  that  tolerable  order,  in  which  it 

Brutes  in  acting  according  to  the  rules  before  men- 
tioned, their  bodily  constitution  and  circumstances,  act 
suitably  to  their  whole  nature.  [It  is  however  to  be 
distinctly  noted,  that  the  reason  why  we  affirm  this  is 
not  merely  that  brutes  in  fact  act  so;  for  this  alone, 
however  universal,  does  not  at  all  determine,  whether 
such  course  of  action  be  correspondent  to  their  whole  na- 
ture: but  the  reason  of  the  assertion  is,  that  as  in  acting 
thus  they  plainly  act  conformably  to  somewhat  in  their 
nature,  so,  from  all  observations  we  are  able  to  make 
upon  them,  there  does  not  appear  the  least  ground  to 
imagine  them  to  have  any  thing  else  in  their  nature, 
which  requires  a  different  rule  or  course  of  action.] 

Mankind  also  in  acting  thus  would  act  suitably  to 
their  whole  nature,  if  no  more  were  to  be  said  of  man's 
nature  than  what  has  been  now  said ;  if  that,  as  it  is  a  true, 
wTere  also  a  complete,  adequate  account  of  our  nature. 

But  that  is  not  a  complete  account  of  man's  nature. 
Somewhat  further  must  be  brought  in  to  give  us  an  ad- 
equate notion  of  it;  namely,  that  one  of  those  principles 
of  action,  conscience  or  reflection,  compared  with  the 
rest  as  they  all  stand '  together  in  the  nature  of  man, 
plainly  bears  upon  it  marks  of  authority  over  all  the  rest, 
and  claims  the  absolute  direction  of  them  all,  to  allow  or 
forbid  their  gratification:  a  disapprobation  of  reflection 
being  in  itself  a  principle  manifestly  superior  to  a  mere 
propension.  And  the  conclusion  is,  that  to  allow  no 
more  to  this  superior  principle  or  part  of  our  nature, 
than  to  other  parts ;  to  let  it  govern  and  guide  only  occa- 
sionally in  common  with  the  rest,  as  its  turn  happens  to 
come,  from  the  temper  and  circumstances  one  happens 
to  be  in;  this  is  not  to  act  conformably  to  the  constitu- 
tion of  man:  neither  can  any  human  creature  be  said  to 


xii 


PREFACE. 


act  conformably  to  his  constitution  of  nature,  unless  he 
allows  to  that  superior  principle  the  absolute  authority 
which  is  due  to  it.  And  this  conclusion  is  abundantly 
confirmed  from  hence,  that  one  may  determine  what 
course  of  action  the  economy  of  man's  nature  requires, 
without  so  much  as  knowing  in  what  degrees  of  strength 
the  several  principles  prevail,  or  which  of  them  have 
actually  the  greatest  influence. 

The  practical  reason  of  insisting  so  much  upon  this 
natural  authority  of  the  principle  of  reflection  or  con- 
science is,  that  it  seems  in  great  measure  overlooked  by 
many,  who  are  by  no  means  the  worst  sort  of  men.  It 
is  thought  sufficient  to  abstain  from  gross  wickedness, 
and  to  be  humane  and  kind  to  such  as  happen  to  come 
in  their  way.  Whereas  in  reality  the  very  constitution 
of  our  nature  requires,  that  we  bring  our  whole  conduct 
before  this  superior  faculty ;  wait  its  determination ;  en- 
force upon  ourselves  its  authority,  and  make  it  the  busi- 
ness of  our  lives,  as  it  is  absolutely  the  whole  business 
of  a  moral  agent,  to  conform  ourselves  to  it.  This  is 
the  true  meaning  of  that  ancient  precept,  Reverence  thy- 
self. 

The  not  taking  into  consideration  this  authority,  which 
is  implied  in  the  idea  of  reflex  approbation  or  disappro- 
bation, seems  a  material  deficiency  or  omission  in  lord 
Shaftesbury's  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue.  He  has  shown 
beyond  all  contradiction,  that  virtue  is  naturally  the  in- 
terest or  happiness,  and  vice  the  misery,  of  such  a  crea- 
ture as  man,  placed  in  the  circumstances  which  we  are 
in  this  world.  But  suppose  there  are  particular  excep- 
tions: a  case  which  this  author  was  unwilling  to  put,  and 
yet  surely  it  is  to  be  put:  or  suppose  a  case  which  he  has 
put  and  determined,  that  of  a  sceptic  not  convinced  of 
this  happy  tendency  of  virtue,  or  being  of  a  contrarv 
opinion.  His  determination  is,  that  it  would  be  without 
remedy.  *  One  may  say  more  explicitly,  that  leaving  out 
the  authority  of  reflex  approbation  or  disapprobation, 
such  a  one  would  be  under  an  obligation  to  act  vicious- 
ly ;  since  interest,  one's  own  happiness,  is  a  manifest 
obligation,  and  there  is  not  supposed  to  be  any  other 

*  Characteristics,  vol.  ii.  p.  8t>. 


PREFACE. 


xiii 


obligation  in  the  case.  "But  does  it  much  mend  the 
matter,  to  take  in  that  natural  authority  of  reflection  ? 
There  indeed  would  be  an  obligation  to  virtue  ;  but 
would  not  the  obligation  from  supposed  interest  on  the 
side  of  vice  remain?"  If  it  should,  yet  to  be  under  two 
contrary  obligations,  i.  e*  under  none  at  all,  would  not 
be  exactly  the  same,  as  to  be  under  a  formal  obligation 
to  be  vicious,  or  to  be  in  circumstances  in  which  the 
constitution  of  man's  nature  plainly  required  that  vice 
should  be  preferred.  But  the  obligation  on  the  side  oi 
interest  really  does  not  remain.  For  the  natural  autho- 
rity of  the  principle  of  reflection  is  an  obligation  the 
most  near  and  intimate,  the  most  certain  and  known : 
whereas  the  contrary  obligation  can  at  the  utmost  appear 
no  more  than  probable  ;  since  no  man  can  be  certain  in 
any  circumstances  that  vice  is  his  interest  in  the  present 
world,  much  less  can  he  be  certain  against  another:  and 
thus  the  certain  obligation  would  entirely  supersede  and 
destroy  the  uncertain  one;  which  yet  would  have  been 
of  real  force  without  the  former. 

In  truth,  the  taking  in  this  consideration  totally 
changes  the  whole  state  of  the  case ;  and  shows,  what  this 
author  does  not  seem  to  have  been  aware  of,  that  the 
greatest  degree  of  scepticism  which  he  thought  possible 
will  still  leave  men  under  the  strictest  moral  obligations, 
whatever  their  opinion  be  concerning  the  happiness  of 
virtue.  For  that  mankind  upon  reflection  felt  an  appro- 
bation of  what  was  good,  and  disapprobation  of  the  con- 
trary, he  thought  a  plain  matter  of  fact,  as  it  undoubtedly 
is,  which  none  could  deny,  but  from  mere  affectation. 
Take  in  then  that  authority  and  obligation,  which  is  a 
constituent  part  of  this  reflex  approbation,  and  it  will 
undeniably  follow,  though  a  man  should  doubt  of  every 
thing  else,  yet,  that  he  would  still  remain  under  the 
nearest  and  most  certain  obligation  to  the  practice  of 
virtue;  an  obligation  implied  in  the  very  idea  of  virtuet  in 
the  very  idea  of  reflex  approbation. 

And  how  little  influence  soever  this  obligation  alone 
can  be  expected  to  have  in  fact  upon  mankind,  yet  one 
may  appeal  even  to  interest  and  self-love,  and  ask,  since 
from  man's  nature,  condition,  and  the  shortness  of  life, 


xiv 


PREFACE. 


so  little,  so  very  little  indeed,  can  possibly  in  any  case  be 
gained  by  vice;  whether  it  be  so  prodigious  a  thing  to 
sacrifice  that  little  to  the  most  intimate  of  all  obligations; 
and  which  a  man  cannot  transgress  without  being  self- 
condemned,  and,  unless  he  has  corrupted  his  nature, 
without  real  self-dislike :  this  question,  I  say,  may  be 
asked,  even  upon  supposition  that  the  prospect  of  a  fu- 
ture life  were  ever  so  uncertain. 

The  observation,  that  man  is  thus  by  his  very  nature 
a  law  to  himself,  pursued  to  its  just  consequences,  is  of 
the  utmost  importance ;  because  from  it  it  will  follow,  that 
though  men  should,  through  stupidity  or  speculative  scep- 
ticism, be  ignorant  of,  or  disbelieve,  any  authority  in  the 
universe  to  punish  the  violation  of  this  law;  yet,  if  there 
should  be  such  authority,  they  would  be  as  really  liable 
to  punishment,  as  though  they  had  been  beforehand 
convinced,  that  such  punishment  would  follow.  For  in 
whatever  sense  we  understand  justice,  even  supposing, 
what  I  think  would  be  very  presumptuous  to  assert,  that 
the  end  of  divine  punishment  is  no  other  than  that  of 
civil  punishment,  namely,  to  prevent  future  mischief; 
upon  this  bold  supposition,  ignorance  or  disbelief  of  the 
sanction  would  by  no  means  exempt  even  from  this  jus- 
tice: because  it  is  not  foreknowledge  of  the  punishment 
which  renders  us  obnoxious  to  it ;  but  merely  violating 
a  known  obligation. 

And  here  it  comes  in  one's  way  to  take  notice  of  a 
manifest  error  or  mistake  in  the  author  now  cited,  un- 
less perhaps  he  has  incautiously  expressed  himself  so  as 
to  be  misunderstood;  namely,  that  it  is  malice  only,  and 
not  goodness,  v;hich  can  make  us  afraid.*  Whereas  in 
reality,  goodness  is  the  natural  and  just  object  of  the 
greatest  fear  to  an  ill  man.  Malice  may  be  appeased 
or  satiated;  humour  may  change,  but  goodness  is  a 
fixed,  steady,  immovable  principle  of  action.  If  either 
of  the  former  holds  the  sword  of  justice,  there  is  plainly 
ground  for  the  greatest  of  crimes  to  hope  for  impunity : 
but  if  it  be  goodness,  there  can  be  no  possible  hope, 
whilst  the  reasons  of  things,  or  the  ends  of  government, 
call  for  punishment.    Thus  every  one  sees  how  much 

*  Ch*nctcri«tie%  toL  »•  p.  SB 


PREFACE. 


XV 


greater  chance  of  impunity  an  ill  man  has  in  a  partial 
administration,  than  in  a  just  and  upright  one.  It  is 
said,  that  the  interest  or  good  of  the  whole  must  be  the 
interest  of  the  universal  Being,  and  that  he  can  have  no 
other.  Be  it  so.  This  author  has  proved,  that  vice  is 
naturally  the  misery  of  mankind  in  this  world.  Conse- 
quently it  was  for  the  good  of  the  whole  that  it  should 
be  so.  What  shadow  of  reason  then  is  there  to  assert, 
that  this  may  not  be  the  case  hereafter?  Danger  of 
future  punishment  (and  if  there  be  danger,  there  is 
ground  of  fear)  no  more  supposes  malice,  than  the  pre- 
sent feeling  of  punishment  does. 

The  Sermon  upon  the  character  of  Balaam,  and  that 
upon  Self-deceit,  both  relate  to  one  subject.  1  am  per- 
suaded, that  a  very  great  part  of  the  wickedness  of  the 
world  is,  one  way  or  other,  owing  to  the  self-partiality, 
self -flattery,  and  self-deceit,  endeavoured  there  to  be 
laid  open  and  explained.  It  is  to  be  observed  amongst 
persons  of  the  lowest  rank,  in  proportion  to  their  com- 
pass of  thought,  as  much  as  amongst  men  of  education 
and  improvement.  It  seems,  that  people  are  capable  of 
being  thus  artful  with  themselves,  in  proportion  as  they 
are  capable  of  being  so  with  others.  Those  who  have 
taken  notice  that  there  is  really  such  a  thing,  namely, 
plain  falseness  and  insincerity  in  men  with  regard  to 
themselves,  will  readily  see  the  drift  and  design  of  these 
Discourses:  and  nothing  that  I  can  add  will  explain  the 
design  of  them  to  him,  who  has  not  beforehand  remark- 
ed, at  least,  somewhat  of  the  character.  And  yet  the 
admonitions  they  contain  may  be  as  much  wanted  by 
such  a  person,  as  by  others;  for  it  is  to  be  noted,  that  a 
man  may  be  entirely  possessed  by  this  unfairness  of 
mind,  without  having  the  least  speculative  notion  what 
the  thing  is. 

The  account  given  of  Resentment  in  the  eighth  Sermon 
is  introductory  to  the  following  one  upon  Forgiveness  of 
Injuries.  It  may  possibly  have  appeared  to  some,  at 
first  sight,  a  strange  assertion,  that  injury  is  the  only 
natural  object  of  settled  resentment,  or  that  men  do  not 
in  fact  resent  deliberately  any  thing  hut  under  this  ap- 
pearance of  injury.    But  I  must  desire  the  reader  not 


xvi 


PREFACE. 


to  take  any  assertion  alone  by  itself,  but  to  consider  the 
whole  of  what  is  said  upon  it:  because  this  is  necessary, 
not  only  in  order  to  judge  of  the  truth  of  it,  but  often, 
such  is  the  nature  of  language,  to  see  the  very  meaning 
of  the  assertion.  Particularly  as  to  this,  injury  and  in- 
justice is,  in  the  Sermon  itself,  explained  to  mean,  not 
only  the  more  gross  and  shocking  instances  of  wicked- 
ness, but  also  contempt,  scorn,  neglect,  any  sort  of 
disagreeable  behaviour  towards  a  person,  which  he 
thinks  other  than  what  is  due  to  him.  And  the  general 
notion  of  injury  or  wrong  plainly  comprehends  this, 
though  the  words  are  mostly  confined  to  the  higher  de- 
grees of  it. 

Forgiveness  of  injuries  is  one  of  the  very  few  moral 
obligations  which  has  been  disputed.  But  the  proof, 
that  it  is  really  an  obligation,  what  our  nature  and  con- 
dition require,  seems  very  obvious,  were  it  only  from 
the  consideration,  that  revenge  is  doing  harm  merely  for 
harm's  sake.  And  as  to  the  love  of  our  enemies:  re- 
sentment cannot  supersede  the  obligation  to  universal 
benevolence,  unless  they  are  in  the  nature  of  the  thing 
inconsistent,  which  they  plainly  are  not* 

This  divine  precept,  to  forgive  injuries  and  love  our 
enemies,  though  to  be  met  with  in  Gentile  moralists, 
yet  is  in  a  peculiar  sense  a  precept  of  Christianity ;  as 
our  Saviour  has  insisted  more  upon  it  than  upon  any 
other  single  virtue.  One  reason  of  this  doubtless  is, 
that  it  so  peculiarly  becomes  an  imperfect,  faulty  crea- 
ture. But  it  may  be  observed  also,  that  a  virtuous 
temper  of  mind,  consciousness  of  innocence,  and  good 
meaning  towards  every  body,  and  a  strong  feeling  of 
injustice  and  injury,  may  itself,  such  is  the  imperfection 
of  our  virtue,  lead  a  person  to  violate  this  obligation,  if 
he  be  not  upon  his  guard.  And  it  may  well  be  sup- 
posed, that  this  is  another  reason  why  it  is  so  much 
insisted  upon  by  him,  who  knew  what  was  in  man. 

The  chief  design  of  the  eleventh  Discourse  is  to  state 
the  notion  of  self-love  and  disinterestedness,  in  order 
to  show  that  benevolence  is  not  more  unfriendly  t«> 
iseit-love,  than  any  other  particular  affection  whatever 

*  Pace  10* 


PREFACE. 


XVII 


There  is  a  strange  affectation  in  many  people  of  explain- 
ing away  all  particular  affections,  and  representing  the 
whole  of  life  as  nothing  but  one  continued  exercise  of 
self-love.  Hence  arises  that  surprising  confusion  and 
perplexity  in  the  Epicureans*  of  old,  Hobbes,  the 
author  of  Reflections,  Sentences,  et  Maximes  Morales,  and 
this  whole  set  of  writers;  the  confusion  of  calling  actions 
interested  which  are  done  in  contradiction  to  the  most 
manifest  known  interest,  merely  for  the  gratification  of 
a  present  passion.  Now  all  this  confusion  might  easily 
be  avoided,  by  stating  to  ourselves  wherein  the  idea  of 
self-love  in  general  consists,  as  distinguished  from  all 
particular  movements  towards  particular  external  ob- 
jects; the  appetites  of  sense,  resentment,  compassion, 
curiosity,  ambition,  and  the  rest.t  When  this  is  done, 
if  the  words  selfish  and  interested  cannot  be  parted  with, 
but  must  be  applied  to  every  thing ;  yet,  to  avoid  such 
total  confusion  of  all  language,  let  the  distinction  be 
made  by  epithets :  and  the  first  may  be  called  cool  or 
settled  selfishness,  and  the  other  passionate  or  sensual 
selfishness.  But  the  most  natural  way  of  speaking 
I  lainly  is,  to  call  the  first  only,  self-love,  and  the  actions 
proceeding  from  it,  interested :  and  to  say  of  the  latter, 
that  they  are  not  love  to  ourselves,  but  movements- 
towards  somewhat  external:  honour,  power,  the  harm 
or  good  of  another :  and  that  the  pursuit  of  these  exter- 
nal objects,  so  far  as  it  proceeds  from  these  movements- 
(for  it  may  proceed  from  self-lovei),  is  no  otherwise 
interested,  than  as  every  action  of  every  creature  must, 
from  the  nature  of  the  thing,  be;  for  no  one  can  act  but 
from  a  desire,  or  choice,  or  preference  of  his  own. 

Self-love  and  any  particular  passion  may  be  joined 
together;  and  from  this  complication,  it  becomes  impos- 

*  One  need  only  look  into  Torqnatus's  account  of  the  Epicurean  system,  in  Cice- 
ro's first  hook  De  Finibtts,  to  see  in  what  a  surprising  manner  this  was  done  hy 
them.  Thus  the  desire  of  praise,  and  of  being  beloved,  he  explains  to  he  no  other 
than  desire  of  safety  •  regard  to  our  country,  even  in  the  most  virtuous  character,  to 
be  nothing  but  regard  to  ourselves.  The  author  of  Reflections,  8fp.  Morales,  says, 
Curiosity  proceeds  from  interest  or  pride ;  which  pride  also  would  doubtless  have 
been  explained  to  be  self-love.  Page  85,  ed.  1725.  As  if  there  were  no  such  pas- 
sions in  mankind  as  desire  of  esteem,  or  of  being  beloved,  or  of  knowledge 
Hobbes's  account  of  the  affections  of  good-will  and  pity  are  instances  of  the  samo 
kind. 

t  Page  12fi,  &c.  %  See  the  note,  page  49. 

n 


PREFACE. 


siWe  in  numberless  instances  to  determine  precisely, 

how  far  an  action,  perhaps  even  of  one's  own,  has  for 
its  principle  general  self-love,  or  some  particular  passion. 
But  this  need  create  no  confusion  in  the  ideas  them- 
selves of  self-love  and  particular  passions.  We  dis- 
tinctly discern  what  one  is,  and  what  the  other  are: 
though  we  may  be  uncertain  how  far  one  or  the  other 
influences  us.  And  though,  from  this  uncertainty,  it 
cannot  but  be  that  there  will  be  different  opinions  con- 
cerning mankind,  as  more  or  less  governed  by  interest; 
and  some  will  ascribe  actions  to  self-love,  which  others 
will  ascribe  to  particular  passions:  yet  it  is  absurd  to 
say  that  mankind  are  wholly  actuated  by  either ;  since 
it  is  manifest  that  both  have  their  influence.  For  as,  on 
the  one  hand,  men  form  a  general  notion  of  interest, 
some  placing  it  in  one  thing,  and  some  in  another,  and 
have  a  considerable  regard  to  it  throughout  the  course 
of  their  life,  which  is  owing  to  self-love ;  so,  on  the 
other  hand,  they  are  often  set  on  work  by  the  particular 
passions  themselves,  and  a  considerable  part  of  life  is 
spent  in  the  actual  gratification  of  them,  i.  e.  is  employ- 
ed, not  by  self-love,  but  by  the  passions. 

Besides,  the  very  idea  of  an  interested  pursuit  neces- 
sarily presupposes  particular  passions  or  appetites ; 
since  the  very  idea  of  interest  or  happiness  consists  in 
this,  that  an  appetite  or  affection  enjoys  its  object.  It  is 
not  because  we  love  ourselves  that  we  find  delight  in 
such  and  such  objects,  but  because  we  have  particular 
affections  towards  them.  Take  away  these  affections, 
and  you  leave  self-love  absolutely  nothing  at  all  to  em- 
ploy itself  about;*  no  end  or  object  for  it  to  pursue, 
excepting  only  that  of  avoiding  pain.  Indeed  the  Epi- 
cureans, who  maintained  that  absence  of  pain  was  the 
highest  happiness,  might,  consistently  with  themselves, 
deny  all  affection,  and,  if  they  had  so  pleased,  every 
sensual  appetite  too :  but  the  very  idea  of  interest  or 
happiness  other  than  absence  of  pain  implies  particular 
appetites  or  passions;  these  being  necessary  to  constitute 
that  interest  or  happiness. 

The  observation,  that  benevolence  is  no  more  diain- 

*  Page  128. 


PREFACE. 


xix 


terested  than  any  of  the  common  particular  passions,* 
seems  in  itself  worth  being  taken  notice  of;  but  is  insisted 
upon  to  obviate  that  scorn,  which  one  sees  rising  upon 
the  faces  of  people  who  are  said  to  know  the  world,  when 
mention  is  made  of  a  disinterested,  generous,  or  public- 
spirited  action.  The  truth  of  that  observation  might  be 
made  appear  in  a  more  formal  manner  of  proof:  for 
whoever  will  consider  all  the  possible  respects  and  re- 
lations which  any  particular  affection  can  have  to  self- 
love  and  private  interest,  will,  I  think,  see  demonstrably, 
that  benevolence  is  not  in  any  respect  more  at  variance 
with  self-love,  than  any  other  particular  affection  what- 
ever, but  that  it  is  m  every  respect,  at  least,  as  friendly 
to  it. 

If  the  observation  be  true,  it  follows,  that  self-love  and 
benevolence,  virtue  and  interest,  are  not  to  be  opposed, 
but  only  to  be  distinguished  from  each  other;  in  the  same 
way  as  virtue  and  any  other  particular  affection,  love  of 
arts,  suppose,  are  to  be  distinguished.  Every  thing  is 
what  it  is,  and  not  another  thing.  The  goodness  or 
badness  of  actions  does  not  arise  from  hence,  that  the 
epithet,  interested  or  disinterested,  may  be  applied  to 
them,  any  more  than  that  any  other  indifferent  epithet, 
suppose  inquisitive  or  jealous,  may  or  may  not  be  ap- 
plied to  them ;  not  from  their  being  attended  with  present 
or  future  pleasure  or  pain  ;  but  from  their  being  what 
they  are;  namely,  what  becomes  such  creatures  as  we 
are,  what  the  state  of  the  case  requires,  or  the  contrary. 
Or  in  other  words,  we  may  judge  and  determine,  that 
an  action  is  morally  good  or  evil,  before  we  so  much  as 
consider,  whether  it  be  interested  or  disinterested.  This 
consideration  no  more  comes  in  to  determine  whethei 
an  action  be  virtuous,  than  to  determine  whether  it  be 
resentful.  Self-love  in  its  due  degree  is  as  just  and 
morally  good,  as  any  affection  whatever.  Benevolence 
towards  particular  persons  may  be  to  a  degree  of  weak- 
ness, and  so  be  blameable :  and  disinterestedness  is  so 
far  from  being  in  itself  commendable,  that  the  utmost 
possible  depravity  which  we  can  in  imagination  conceive, 
is  that  of  disinterested  cruelty. 

*  Page  13),  &c 
B2 


PREFACE. 


Neither  does  there  appear  any  reason  to  wish  self-love 
were  weaker  in  the  generality  of  the  world  than  it  is. 
The  influence  which  it  has  seems  plainly  owing  to  its 
being  constant  and  habitual,  which  it  cannot  but  be,  and 
not  to  the  degree  or  strength  of  it.  Every  caprice  of  the 
imagination,  every  curiosity  of  the  understanding,  every 
affection  of  the  heart,  is  perpetually  showing  its  weak- 
ness, by  prevailing  over  it.  Men  daily,  hourly  sacrifice 
the  greatest  known  interest,  to  fancy,  inquisitiveness, 
love,  or  hatred,  any  vagrant  inclination.  The  thing  to 
be  lamented  is,  not  that  men  have  so  great  regard  to 
their  own  good  or  interest  in  the  present  world,  for  they 
have  not  enough  ;*  but  that  they  have  so  little  to  the 
good  of  others.  And  this  seems  plainly  owing  to  their 
being  so  much  engaged  in  the  gratification  of  particular 
passions  unfriendly  to  benevolence,  and  which  happen 
to  be  most  prevalent  in  them,  much  more  than  to  self- 
love.  As  a  proof  of  this  may  be  observed,  that  there  is 
no  character  more  void  of  friendship,  gratitude,  natural 
affection,  love  to  their  country,  common  justice,  or  more 
equally  and  uniformly  hard-hearted,  than  the  abandoned 

in,  what  is  called,  the  way  of  pleasure  hard-hearted 

and  totally  without  feeling  in  behalf  of  others;  except 
when  they  cannot  escape  the  sight  of  distress,  and  so  are 
interrupted  by  it  in  their  pleasures.  And  yet  it  is  ridicu- 
lous to  call  such  an  abandoned  course  of  pleasure  interest- 
ed, when  the  person  engaged  in  it  knows  beforehand, 
goes  on  under  the  feeling  and  apprehension,  that  it  will  be 
as  ruinous  to  himself,  as  to  those  who  depend  upon  him. 

Upon  the  whole,  if  the  generality  of  mankind  were  to 
cultivate  within  themselves  the  principle  of  self-love  ;  if 
they  were  to  accustom  themselves  often  to  set  down 
and  consider,  what  was  the  greatest  happiness  they  were 
capable  of  attaining  for  themselves  in  this  life,  and  if  self- 
love  were  so  strong  and  prevalent,  as  that  they  would 
uniformly  pursue  this  their  supposed  chief  temporal  good, 
without  being  diverted  from  it  by  any  particular  passion ; 
it  would  manifestly  prevent  numberless  follies  and  vices. 
This  was  in  a  great  measure  the  Epicurean  system  of 
philosophy.    It  is  indeed  by  no  means  the  religious  or 

*  Page  34. 


PREFACE. 


xxi 


even  moral  institution  of  life.  Yet,  with  all  the  mistaken 
men  would  fall  into  about  interest,  it  would  be  less  mis- 
chievous than  the  extravagances  of  mere  appetite,  will, 
and  pleasure :  for  certainly  sjilf-love,  though  confined  to 
the  interest  of  this  life,  is,  of  the  two,  a  much  better  guide 
than  passion,*  which  has  absolutely  no  bound  nor  mea- 
sure, but  what  is  set  to  it  bj  this  self-love,  or  moral 
considerations. 

From  the  distinction  above  made  between  self-love, 
and  the  several  particular  principles  or  affections  in  our 
nature,  we  may  see  how  good  ground  there  was  for  that 
assertion,  maintained  by  the  several  ancient  schools  of 
philosophy  against  the  Epicureans,  namely,  that  virtue 
is  to  be  pursued  as  an  end,  eligible  in  and  for  itself. 
For,  if  there  be  any  principles  or  affections  in  the  mind 
of  man  distinct  from  self-love,  that  the  things  those 
principles  tend  towards,  or  that  the  objects  of  those 
affections  are,  each  of  them,  in  themselves  eligible,  to 
be  pursued  upon  its  own  account,  and  to  be  rested  in 
as  an  end,  is  implied  in  the  very  idea  of  such  principle 
or  affection.t  They  indeed  asserted  much  higher  things 
of  virtue,  and  with  very  good  reason ;  but  to  say  thus 
much  of  it,  that  it  is  to  be  pursued  for  itself,  is  to  say  no 
more  of  it,  than  may  truly  be  said  of  the  object  of  every 
natural  affection  whatever. 

The  question,  which  was  a  few  years  ago  disputed  in 
France,  concerning  the  love  of  God,  which  was  there 
called  enthusiasm,  as  it  will  every  where  by  the  gener- 
ality of  the  world ;  this  question,  I  say,  answers  in 
religion  to  that  old  one  in  morals  now  mentioned.  And 
both  of  them  are,  I  think,  fully  determined  by  the  same 
observation,  namely,  that  the  very  nature  of  affection, 
the  idea  itself,  necessarily  implies  resting  in  its  object  as 
an  end. 

I  shall  not  here  add  any  thing  further  to  what  I  have 
said  in  the  two  Discourses  upon  that  most  important 
subject,  but  only  this :  that  if  we  are  constituted  such 
sort  of  creatures,  as  from  our  very  nature  to  feel  certain 
affections  or  movements  of  mind,  upon  the  sight  or  con- 
templation of  the  meanest  inanimate  part  of  the  creation, 

*  P.  44.  f  P.  155. 


xxii 


PREFACE. 


for  the  flowers  of  the  field  have  their  beauty;  certainly 
there  must  be  somewhat  due  to  him  himself,  who  is  the 
Author  and  Cause  of  all  things;  who  is  more  intimately 
present  to  us  than  any  thing  else  can  be,  and  with  whom 
we  have  a  nearer  and  more  constant  intercourse,  than 
we  can  have  with  any  creature:  there  must  be  some 
movements  of  mind  and  heart  which  correspond  to  his 
perfections,  or  of  which  those  perfections  are  the  natural 
object:  and  that  when  we  are  commanded  to  love  the 
Lord  our  God  with  all  our  heart,  and  with  all  our  mind, 
and  with  all  our  soul;  somewhat  more  must  be  meant 
than  merely  that  we  live  in  hope  of  rewards  or  fear  of 
punishments  from  him;  somewhat  more  than  this  must 
be  intended:  though  these  regards  themselves  are  most 
just  and  reasonable,  and  absolutely  necessary  to  be  often 
recollected  in  such  a  world  as  this. 

It  may  be  proper  just  to  advertise  the  reader,  that  he 
is  not  to  look  for  any  particular  reason  for  the  choice  ot 
the  greatest  part  of  these  Discourses ;  their  being  taken 
from  amongst  many  others,  preached  in  the  same  place, 
through  a  course  of  eight  years,  being  in  great  measure 
accidental.  Neither  is  he  to  expect  to  find  any  other 
connexion  between  them,  than  that  uniformity  of  thought 
and  design,  which  will  always  be  found  in  the  writings 
of  the  same  person,  when  he  writes  with  simplicity  and 
in  earnest. 

JfeuUqK,  Sept.  is,  lm 


CONTENTS, 


UPON  HUMAN  NATURE,  OR  MAN  CONSIDERED  AS  A 
MORAL  AGENT. 

Pagt 

Sermon  I.— UPON  THE  SOCIAL  NATURE  OF  MAN  ...  25 
For  as  we  have  many  members  in  one  body,  and  all  members  have  not 

the  same  office  :  so  we  being  many  are  one  body  in  Christ,  and  every 

one  members  one  of  another. — Rom.  xii.  4,  6. 

Sermons  II.  111.— UPON  THE  NATURAL  SUPREMACY  OF  CON- 
SCIENCE  37,  47 

For  when  the  Gentiles,  which  have  not  the  law,  do  by  nature  the  things 
contained  in  the  law,  these,  having  not  the  law,  are  a  law  to  them- 
selves.— Roin.  ii.  14. 

Sermon  IV.— UPON  THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  TONGUE     .       .  53 
li'  any  man  among  you  seem  to  be  religious,  and  bridleth  not  his  tongue, 
but  dece'veth  his  own  heart,  this  man's  religion  is  vain. — Jam.  i.  26. 

Sermons  V.  VI. — UPON  COMPANION  04,71 

Rejoice  with  them  that  do  rejoice,  and  weep  with  thein  that  weep. — 
Rom.  xii.  10. 

Sermon  VII. — UPON  THE  CHARACTER  OF  BALAAM     .      .      .  tig 
Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his.— 
Numb,  xxiii.  10. 

Sermon-,  VIII.  IX.— UPON  RESENTMENT,  ANT)  FORGIVENESS  OF 
INJURIES   92,  101 

Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour,  and 
hate  thine  enemy :  but  1  say  unto  you,  Love  your  enemies,  bless  thein 
that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and  pray  for  thein  that 
despitefully  use  you  and  persecute  you. — Matt.  v.  43,  44. 

Sermon  X. — UPON  SELF-DECEIT   113 

And  Nathan  said  to  David,  Thou  art  the  man. — 2  Sain.  xii.  7. 

Sermoms  XI.  XII. — UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  NEIGHBOUR  .  125,  140 
And  if  there  be  any  other  commandment,  it  is  briefly  comprehended  in 

this  saying,  namely.  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.— 

Rom.  xiii.  9. 

Skrmoms  XIII.  XIV. — UPON  PIETY,  Ol!  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD  154,163 
Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  witli  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy 
rail,  and  with  all  thy  mind. —  Matt.  xxii.  37. 


XXiv  CONTENTS. 

Fan 

Shimon  XV. — UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN  .  .  ;■»« 
When  I  applied  mine  heart  to  know  wisdom,  and  to  see  the  business  that 
is  done  upon  the  earth  :  then  I  beheld  all  the  work  of  God,  that  a  man 
cannot  find  out  the  work  that  is  done  under  the  sun:  because  though 
a  man  labour  to  seek  it  out,  yet  he  shall  not  find  it;  yea  further, 
though  a  wise  man  think  to  know  it,  yet  shall  he  not  be  able  to  find 
it. — Kccles.  viii.  1G,  17. 


SIX  SERMONS 

PREACHED  UPON  PUBLIC  OCCASIONS. 


Sermon  I  —  PREACHED  BEFORE  THE  SOCIETY  FOR  PROPAGATING 
THE  GOSPEL  184 

And  this  gospel  of  the  kingdom  shall  be  preached  in  all  the  world,  for  a 
witness  unto  all  nations. — Matt.  xxiv.  14. 

Sermon  II— PREACHED  BEFORE  THE  LORD  MAYOR,  ALDERMEN, 
AND  SHERIFFS,  AND  THE  GOVERNORS  OF  THE  SEVERAL 
HC^PITALS  OF  THE  CITY  OF  LONDON  197 

The  rich  and  poor  meet  together:  the  Lord  is  the  maker  of  them  all.— 
Prov.  xxii.  2. 

Skiuiox  III.— PREACHED  BEFORE  THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS,  JAN. 
30,  I74(MI  211 

And  not  using  your  liberty  for  a  cloak  of  maliciousness,  but  as  the  ser- 
vants of  God. — 1  Pet.  ii.  1G. 

Skrmqn  IV.— PREACHED  AT  THE  ANNUAL  MEETING  OF  THE 
CHARITY  CHILDREN  AT  CHRIST  CHURCH      ....  225 

Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go:  and  when  he  is  old,  he  will 
not  depart  from  it. — Prov.  xxii.  G. 


Skumon  V.— PREACHED  BEFORE  THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS  ON  THE 
ANNIVERSARY  OF  HIS  MAJESTY'S  ACCESSION  TO  THE  THRONE  241 

1  exhort,  that,  first  of  all,  supplications,  prayers,  intercessions,  and 
giving  of  thanks,  be  made  for  all  men  j  for  kings,  and  for  all  that  are 
in  authority ;  that  we  may  lead  a  quiet  and  peaceable  life,  in  ail  gori- 
Jiness  and  honesty. —  I  Tim.  ii.  1, 

ShiiwoN  VI.— PREACHED  BEFORE  THE  GOVERNORS  OF  THE  I  ON- 
DON  INFIRMARY   250 

And  above  all  things  have  fervent  charity  among  yourselves;  for  charity 
shall  cover  the  multitude  of  sins. — 1  Pet.  iv.  8. 

A  CHARGE  TO  THE  CLERGY  OF  THE  D'OCESE  OF  DURHAM, 
1751   «6fi 

'CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN  1)11  BUTLER  AND  DR  CLARKE  £84 


SERMON  I. 


UPON  HUMAN  NATURE. 

For  as  we  have  many  members  in  one  body,  and  all  members  have 
not  the  same  office :  so  tve  being  many  are  one  body  in  Christ,  and 
every  one  members  one  of  another. — Rom.  xii.  4,  5. 

The  Epistles  in  the  New  Testament  have  all  of  them  a 
particular  reference  to  the  condition  and  usages  of  the 
Christian  world  at  the  time  they  were  written.  There- 
fore as  they  cannot  be  thoroughly  understood,  unless 
that  condition  and  those  usages  are  known  and  attended 
to:  so  further,  though  they  be  known,  yet  if  they  be  dis- 
•  continued  or  changed;  exhortations,  precepts,  and  il- 
lustrations of  things,  which  refer  to  such  circumstances 
now  ceased  or  altered,  cannot  at  this  time  be  urged  in 
that  manner,  and  with  that  force  which  they  were  to  the 
primitive  Christians.  Thus  the  text  now  before  us,  in 
its  first  intent  and  design,  relates  to  the  decent  manage- 
ment of  those  extraordinary  gifts  which  were  then  in 
the  church,*  but  which  are  now  totally  ceased.  And 
even  as  to  the  allusion  that  we  are  one  body  in  Christ; 
though  what  the  Apostle  here  intends  is  equally  true  of 
Christians  in  all  circumstances;  and  the  consideration  of 
it  is  plainly  still  an  additional  motive,  over  and  above 
moral  considerations,  to  the  discharge  of  the  several 
duties  and  offices  of  a  Christian:  yet  it  is  manifest  this 
allusion  must  have  appeared  with  much  greater  force  to 
those,  who,  by  the  many  difficulties  they  went  through 
for  the  sake  of  their  religion,  were  led  to  keep  always  in 
view  the  relation  they  stood  in  to  their  Saviour,  who  had 
undergone  the  same;  to  those,  who,  from  the  idolatries 
of  all  around  them,  and  their  ill-treatment,  were  taught 

*  1  Cor.  xii. 


26  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  [Skr.  L 

to  consider  themselves  as  not  of  the  world  in  which  they 
lived,  but  as  a  distinct  society  of  themselves;  with  laws 
and  ends,  and  principles  of  life  and  action,  quite  contrary 
to  those  which  the  world  professed  themselves  at  that 
time  influenced  by.  Hence  the  relation  of  a  Christian 
was  by  them  considered  as  nearer  than  that  of  affinity 
and  blood;  and  they  almost  literally  esteemed  themselves 
as  members  one  of  another. 

It  cannot  indeed  possibly  be  denied,  that  our  being 
God's  creatures,  and  virtue  being  the  natural  law  we  are 
born  under,  and  the  whole  constitution  of  man  being 
plainly  adapted  to  it,  are  prior  obligations  to  piety  and 
virtue,  than  the  consideration  that  God  sent  his  Son  into 
the  world  to  save  it,  and  the  motives  which  arise  from 
the  peculiar  relation  of  Christians,  as  members  one  of 
another  under  Christ  our  head.  However,  though  all 
this  be  allowed,  as  it  expressly  is  by  the  inspired  writers; 
yet  it  is  manifest  that  Christians  at  the  time  of  the  reve- 
lation, and  immediately  after,  could  not  but  insist  mostly 
upon  considerations  of  this  latter  kind. 

These  observations  show  the  original  particular  refer- 
ence of  the  text;  and  the  peculiar  force  with  which  the 
thing  intended  by  the  allusion  in  it,  must  have  been  felt 
by  the  primitive  Christian  world.  They  likewise  afford 
a  reason  for  treating  it  at  this  time  in  a  more  gent  ral  way. 

The  relation  which  the  several  parts  or  members  of 
the  natural  body  have  to  each  other  and  to  the  whole 
body,  is  here  compared  to  the  relation  which  each  par- 
ticular person  in  society  has  to  other  particular  persons 
and  to  the  whole  society;  and  the  latter  is  intended  to 
be  illustrated  by  the  former.  And  if  there  be  a  likeness 
between  these  two  relations,  the  consequence  is  ob- 
vious: that  the  latter  shows  us  we  were  intended  to  do 
good  to  others,  as  the  former  shows  us  that  the  several 
members  of  the  natural  body  were  intended  to  be  instru- 
ments of  good  to  each  other  and  to  tl»c  whole  body.  But 
as  there  is  scarce  any  ground  for  a  comparison  be  tween 
societv  and  the  mere  material  body,  this  without  the 
mind  being  a  dead  unactive  thing;  much  less  can  the 
comparison  be  carried  to  any  length.  \nd  since  the 
apostle  speaks  of  the  several  members  as  having  distinct 


Sm.1.)  upon  human  nature.  27 

offices,  which  implies  the  mind;  it  cannot  be  thought  an 
unallowable  liberty,  instead  of  the  body  and  its  members, 
to  substitute  the  whole  nature  of  man,  and  all  the  variety 
of  internal  principles  which  belong  to  it.  And  then  the 
comparison  will  be  between  the  nature  of  man  as  re- 
specting self,  and  tending  to  private  good,  his  own  pre- 
servation and  happiness ;  and  the  nature  of  man  as  hav- 
ing respect  to  society,  and  tending  to  promote  public 
good,  the  happiness  of  that  society.  These  ends  do  in- 
deed perfectly  coincide ;  and  to  aim  at  public  and  private 
good  are  so  far  from  being  inconsistent,  that  they  mutu- 
ally promote  each  other :  yet  in  the  following  discourse 
they  must  be  considered  as  entirely  distinct;  otherwise 
the  nature  of  man  as  tending  to  one,  or  as  tending  to 
the  other,  cannot  be  compared.  There  can  no  com- 
parison be  made,  without  considering  the  things  com- 
pared as  distinct  and  different. 

From  this  review  and  comparison  of  the  nature  ot 
man  as  respecting  self,  and  as  respecting  society,  it  will 
plainly  appear,  that  there  are  as  real  and  the  same  kind 
of  indications  in  human  nature,  that  ice  were  made  for  so- 
ciety and  to  do  good  to  our  fellow  creatures;  as  that  we 
were  intended  to  take  care  of  our  own  life  and  health  and 
private  good:  and  that  the  same  objections  lie  against  one 
of  these  assertions,  as  against  the  other.  For, 

First,  There  is  a  natural  principle  of  benevolence*  in 

*  Suppose  a  man  of  learning  to  he  writing  a  grave  book  upon  hitman  nature,  and 
to  show  in  several  parts  of  it  that  he  had  an  insight  into  the  subject  he  was  consider- 
ing ;  amongst  other  things,  the  following  one  would  require  to  be  accounted  for  ;  the 
appearance  of  benevolence  or  good  will  in  men  towards  each  other  in  the  instances 
of  natural  relation,  and  in  others.*  Cautious  of  being  deceived  with  outward  show, 
he  retires  within  himself  to  see  exactly,  what  that  is  in  the  mind  of  man  from  whence 
this  appearance  proceeds  ;  and,  upon  deep  reflection,  asserts  the  principle  in  the 
mind  to  be  only  the  love  of  power,  and  delight  in  the  exercise  of  it.  Would  not 
every  body  tl.'nk  here  was  a  mistake  of  one  word  for  another?  that  the  philosopher 
was  con  tel.  .  tting  and  accounting  for  some  other  human  actions,  some  other  beha- 
viour of  ■!..  ,  ,  j  man  ?  And  could  any  one  be  thoroughly  satisfied,  that  what  is  com- 
monly ca.i°d  nenevolence  or  good  will  was  really  tin  affection  meant,  but  only  by 
being  made  to  understand  that  this  learned  person  had  a  general  hypothesis, to  which 
the  appearance  of  good- will  could  no  otherwise  be  reconciled  ?  That  what  has  this 
appearance  is  often  nothing  but  ambition;  thai  delight  in  superiority  often  (suppose 
always)  mixes  itself  with  benevolence,  only  makes  it  more  specious  to  call  it  ambi- 
tion than  hunger,  of  the  two  :  but  in  reality  that  passion  does  no  more  account  for 
the  whole  appearances  of  good-will  than  this  appetite  does  Is  there  not  often  the 
tpprarance  of  one  man's  wishing  that  good  to  another,  which  he  knows  himself  un- 
»ble  to  procure  him  :  and  rejoicing  in  it,  though  bestowed  by  a  third  person?  And 
<an  love  of  power  any  way  possibly  come  in  to  account  for  this  desire  or  delight? 

«  Hobbe*  "f  Human  V  .Jure,         \  7 


28  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  [Skr.  I. 

man;  which  is  in  some  degree  to  society,  what  self-love 
is  to  the  individual.  And  if  there  be  in  mankind  any 
disposition  to  friendship  ;  if  there  be  any  such  thing  as 
compassion,  for  compassion  is  momentary  love  ;  if  there 
be  any  such  thing  as  the  paternal  or  filial  affections  ;  if 
there  be  any  affection  in  human  nature,  the  object  and 
end  of  which  is  the  good  of  another;  this  is  itself  bene- 
volence, or  the  love  of  another.  Be  it  ever  so  short,  be 
it  in  ever  so  low  a  degree,  or  ever  so  unhappily  con- 
fined ;  it  proves  the  assertion,  and  points  out  what  we 
were  designed  for,  as  really  as  though  it  were  in  a  higher 
degree  and  more  extensive.  I  must  however  remind 
you  that  though  benevolence  and  self-love  are  different; 
though  the  former  tends  most  directly  to  public  good, 
and  the  latter  to  private:  yet  they  are  so  perfectly  coin- 
is  there  not  often  the  appearance  of  men's  distinguishing  between  two  or  more  per- 
sons, preferring  one  before  another,  to  do  good  to,  in  cases  where  love  of  power  can- 
not in  the  least  account  for  tire  distinction  and  preference  ?  For  this  principle  can 
no  otherwise  distinguish  between  objects,  than  as  it  isa  greater  instance  and  exertion 
of  power  to  do  good  to  one  rather  than  to  another.  Again,  suppose  good-will  in  the 
mind  of  man  to  be  nothing  but  delight  in  the  exercise  of  power:  men  might  indeed 
be  restrained  by  distant  and  accidental  consideration  ;  but  these  restraints  being  rc- 
moved,  they  would  have  a  disposition  to,  and  delight  in  mischief  as  an  exercise  and 
proof  of  power :  and  this  disposition  and  delight  would  arise  from,  or  be  the  same 
principle  in  the  mind,  as  a  disposition  to,  and  delight  in  charity.  Thus  cruelty,  as 
distinct  from  envy  and  resentment,  would  be  exactly  the  same  in  the  mind  of  man  as 
good-will:  that  one  tends  to  the  happiness,  the  other  to  the  misery  of  our  fellow 
creatures,  is,  it  seems,  merely  an  accidental  circumstance,  which  the  mind  has  not 
the  h  ast  regard  to.  These  are  the  absurdities  which  even  men  of  capacity  run  into, 
when  they  have  occasion  to  belie  their  nature,  and  will  perversely  disclaim  that 
image  of  God  which  was  originally  stomped  upon  it,  the  traces  of  which,  however 
faint,  are  plainly  discernible  upon  the  mind  of  man. 

If  any  person  can  in  earnest  doubt,  whether  there  be  such  a  thing  as  good-will  in 
one  man  towards  another ;  (for  the  question  is  not  concerning  either  the  degree  or 
extensiveness  of  it,  but  concerning  the  affection  itself:)  let  it  be  observed,  that 
whether  man  be  thus,  or  otherwise  constituted,  what  is  the  inward  frame  in  this  parti- 
cular, is  a  mere  question  of  fact  or  natural  history,  not  proveable  immediately  by 
reason.  It  is  therefore  to  be  judged  of  and  determined  in  the  same  way  other  facts 
or  mutters  of  natural  history  are :  by  appealing  to  the  external  senses,  or  inward  per- 
ceptions, respectively,  as  the  matter  under  consideration  is  cognizable  by  one  or  the 
other  :  by  arguing  from  acknowledged  facts  and  actions ;  for  a  great  number  of  ac- 
tions in  the  same  kind,  in  different  circumstances,  and  respecting  different  objects 
will  prove  to  a  certainty,  what  principles  they  do  not,  and,  to  the  greatest  probability, 
what  principles  they  do  proceed  from :  and  lastly,  by  the  testimony  of  mankind. 
Now  that  there  is  some  degree  of  benevolence  amongst  men,  may  be  as  strongly  and 
plainly  proved  in  all  these  ways,  as  it  could  possibly  be  proved,  supposing  there  was 
this  affection  in  our  nature.  And  should  any  one  think  fit  to  assert,  that  resentment 
in  the  mind  of  man  was  absolutely  nothing  hut  reasonable  concern  for  our  own  safety, 
the  falsity  of  this,  and  what  is  the  real  nature  of  that  passion,  could  be  shown  in  no 
other  way  than  those  in  which  it  may  be  shown,  that  there  is  such  a  thing  in  somt 
degree  as  rent  good  will  in  man  towards  man.  It  is  sufficient  that  the  seeds  of  it  be 
implanted  in  our  nature  by  God.  There  is,  it  is  owned,  much  left  for  us  to  do  upon 
our  own  heart  and  temper  ;  to  cultivate,  to  improve,  to  call  it  forth,  to  exercise  it  in 
a  steady,  uniform  manner.    This  is  our  work  ;  this  >s  virtue  and  religion. 


Ser.  1.] 


UPON  HUMAN  NATURE. 


29 


cident,  that  the  greatest  satisfactions  to  ourselves  depend 
upon  our  having  benevolence  in  a  due  degree  and  that 
self-love  is  one  chief  security  of  our  right  behaviour 
towards  society.  It  may  be  added,  that  their  mutual 
coinciding,  so  that  we  can  scarce  promote  one  without 
the  other,  is  equally  a  proof  that  we  were  made  for  both. 

Secondly,  This  will  further  appear,  from  observing 
that  the  several  passions  and  affections,  which  are  dis- 
tinct *  both  from  benevolence  and  self-love,  do  in 
general  contribute  and  lead  us  to  public  good  as  really  as 
to  private.  It  might  be  thought  too  minute  and  parti- 
cular, and  would  carry  us  too  great  a  length,  to  distin- 
guish between  and  compare  together  the  several  passions 
or  appetites  distinct  from  benevolence,  whose  primary 
use  and  intention  is  the  security  and  good  of  society; 
and  the  passions  distinct  from  self-love,  whose  primary 
intention  and  design  is  the  security  and  good  of  the  in- 
dividuaLt    It  is  enough  to  the  present  argument,  that 

*  Every  body  makes  a  distinction  between  self-love,  and  the  several  particular 
passions,  appetites,  and  affections  ;  and  yet  they  are  often  confounded  again.  Tli.it 
they  ure  totally  different,  will  he  seen  by  any  one  who  will  distinguish  between  the 
passions  and  appetites  themselves,  and  endeavouring  after  the  means  of  their  gratifi- 
cation. (  '(insider  the  appetite  of  hunger,  and  the  desire  of  esteem  :  these  being  the 
occasion  both  of  pleasure  and  pain,  the  coollest  self  love,  as  well  as  the  appetites  and 
passions  themselves,  may  put  us  upon  making  use  of  the  proper  methods  of  obtaining 
that  pleasure,  and  avoiding  that  pain  ;  but  the  feelings  themselves,  the  pain  of  hunger 
;;inl  shame,  and  the  deli»ht  from  esteem,  are  no  more  self-love  than  they  are  any 
thing  in  the  world.  Though  a  man  hated  himself,  he  would  as  much  feel  the  pain 
of  hunger  as  he  would  that  of  the  gout:  and  it  is  plainly  supposable  there  may  he 
creatures  with  self-love  in  them  to  the  highest  degree,  who  may  be  quite  insensible 
and  indifferent  (as  men  in  some  cases  are)  to  the  contempt  and  esteem  of  those, 
upon  whom  their  happiness  does  not  in  some  further  respects  depend.  And  as  self- 
love  and  the  several  particular  passions  and  appetites  are  in  themselves  totally  dif- 
ferent ;  so,  that  some  actions  proceed  from  one,  and  some  from  the  other,  will  be 
manifest  to  any  who  will  observe  the  two  following  very  supposable  cases.  One  man 
rushes  upon  certain  ruin  for  the  gratification  of  a  present  desire  :  nobody  will  call  the 
principle  of  this  action  self-love.  Suppose  another  man  to  go  through  some  labori- 
ous work  upon  promise  of  a  great  reward,  without  any  distinct  knowledge  what  the 
reward  will  be  :  this  course  of  action  cannot  be  ascribed  to  any  particular  passion. 
The  former  of  these  actions  is  plainly  to  be  imputed  to  some  particular  passion  or 
affection,  the  latter  as  plainly  to  the  general  affection  or  principle  of  self-love. 
That  there  are  some  particular  pursuits  or  actions  concerning  which  we  cannot  de- 
termine how  far  they  are  owing  to  one,  and  how  far  to  the  other,  proceeds  from  this 
that  the  two  principles  are  frequently  mixed  together,  and  run  up  into  each  other. 
This  distinction  is  further  explained  in  the  eleventh  sermon. 

f  If  any  desire  to  see  this  distinction  and  comparison  made  in  a  particular  instance, 
the  appetite  and  passion  now  mentioned  may  serve  for  one.  Hunger  is  to  be  eon- 
sidrrrd  as  a  private  appetite  ;  because  the  end  for  which  it  was  given  us  is  the 
preservation  of  the  individual.  Desire  of  esteem  is  a  public  passion  ;  because  the 
end  for  which  it  was  given  us  is  to  regulate  our  behaviour  towards  society.  The 
respect  which  this  nas  to  private  good  is  as  remote  as  the  respect  that  has  to  public 
good:  and  the  appetite  is  no  more  self-love,  than  the  passion' is  benevolence.  The 
object  and  end  of  the  former  is  merely  food ;  the  object  and  end  of  the  latter  is 


SO  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  [8««,  L 

desire  of  esteem  from  others,  contempt  and  esteem  0/ 
them,  lave  of  society  as  distinct  from  affection  to  the 
good  of  it,  indignation  against  successful  vice,  that  these 
are  public  affections  or  passions;  have  an  immediate  re- 
spect to  others,  naturally  lead  us  to  regulate  our  be- 
haviour in  such  a  manner  as  will  be  of  service  to  our 
fellow  creatures.  If  any  or  all  of  these  may  be  consi- 
dered likewise  as  private  affections,  as  tending  to  private 
good ;  this  does  not  hinder  them  from  being  public  af- 
fections too,  or  destroy  the  good  influence  of  them  upon 
society,  and  their  tendency  to  public  good.  It  may  be 
added,  that  as  persons  without  any  conviction  from  reason 
of  the  desirableness  of  life,  would  yet  of  course  preserve 
it  merely  from  the  appetite  of  hunger;  so  by  acting 
merely  from  regard  (suppose)  to  reputation,  without 
any  consideration  of  the  good  of  others,  men  often  con- 
tribute to  public  good.  In  both  these  instances  they  are 
plainly  instruments  in  the  hands  of  another,  in  the  hands 
of  Providence,  to  carry  on  ends,  the  preservation  of  the 
individual  and  good  of  society,  which  they  themselves 
have  not  in  their  view  or  intention.  The  sum  is,  men 
have  various  appetites,  passions,  and  particular  affec- 
tions, quite  distinct  both  from  self-love  and  from  bene- 
volence: all  of  these  have  a  tendency  to  promote  both 
public  and  private  good,  and  may  be  considered  as 
respecting  others  and  ourselves  equally  and  in  common: 
but  some  of  them  seem  most  immediately  to  respect 
others,  or  tend  to  public  good ;  others  of  them  most  im- 
mediately to  respect  self,  01*  tend  to  private  good :  as  the 
former  are  not  benevolence,  so  the  latter  are  not  self- 
love:  neither  sort  are  instances  of  our  love  either  to  our- 
selves or  others;  but  only  instances  of  our  Maker's  care 
and  love  both  of  the  individual  and  the  species,  and 
proofs  that  he  intended  we  should  be  instruments  of 
good  to  each  other,  as  well  as  that  we  should  be  so  to 
ourselves. 

Thirdly,  There  is  a  principle  of  reflection  in  men,  by 
which  they  distinguish  between,  approve  and  disapprove 


nerely  esteem  :  but  the  latter  can  no  more  be  gratified,  without  contributing  to  the 
good  of  society;  than  the  former  can  be  gratified,  without  contributing  to  the  prescn- 
ration  cf  the  individual. 


Sk».  i  ]  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  31 

their  own  actions.  We  are  plainly  constituted  such  sort 
of  creatures  as  to  reflect  upon  our  own  nature.  The 
mind  can  take  a  view  of  what  passes  within  itself,  its 
propensions,  aversions,  passions,  affections,  as  respecting 
such  objects,  and  in  such  degrees;  and  of  the  several  ac- 
tions consequent  thereupon.  In  this  survey  it  approves 
of  one,  disapproves  of  another,  and  towards  a  third  is  af- 
fected in  neither  of  these  ways,  but  is  quite  indifferent. 
This  principle  in  man,  by  which  he  approves  or  disap- 
proves his  heart,  temper,  and  actions,  is  conscience;  for 
this  is  the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  though  sometimes  it 
is  us<  d  so  as  to  take  in  more.  And  that  this  faculty 
tends  to  restrain  men  from  doing  mischief  to  each  other, 
and  leads  them  to  do  good,  is  too  manifest  to  need 
being  insisted  upon.  Thus  a  parent  has  the  affection  of 
love  to  his  children:  this  leads  him  to  take  care  of,  to 
educate,  to  make  due  provision  for  them;  the  natural  af- 
fection leads  to  this:  but  the  reflection  that  it  is  his 
proper  business,  what  belongs  to  him,  that  it  is  right  and 
commendable  so  to  do;  this  added  to  the  affection  be- 
comes a  much  more  settled  principle,  and  carries  him  on 
through  more  labour  and  difficulties  for  the  sake  of  his 
children,  than  he  would  undergo  from  that  affection 
alone,  if  he  thought  it,  and  the  course  of  action  it  led  to, 
either  indifferent  or  criminal.  This  indeed  is  impossi- 
ble, to  do  that  which  is  good  and  not  to  approve  of  it ; 
for  which  reason  they  are  frequently  not  considered  as 
distinct,  though  they  really  are:  for  men  often  approve 
of  the  actions  of  others,  which  they  will  not  imitate,  and 
likewise  do  that  which  they  approve  not.  It  cannot 
possibly  be  denied,  that  there  is  this  principle  of  reflec- 
tion or  conscience  in  human  nature.  Suppose  a  man  to 
relieve  an  innocent  person  in  great  distress ;  suppose  the 
same  man  afterwards,  in  the  fury  of  anger,  to  do  the 
greatest  mischief  to  a  person  who  had  given  no  just  cause 
of  offence;  to  aggravate  the  injury,  add  the  circumstances 
of  former  friendship,  and  obligation  from  the  injured 
person;  let  the  man  who  is  supposed  to  have  done  these 
two  different  actions,  coolly  reflect  upon  them  afterwards, 
without  regard  to  their  consequences  to  himself:  to  as- 
»ert  that  any  common  man  would  be  affected  in  the 


32  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  LSs».  i 

same  way  towards  these  different  actions,  that  he  would 
make  no  distinction  between  them,  but  approve  or  dis- 
approve them  equally,  is  too  glaring  a  falsity  to  need 
being  confuted.  There  is  therefore  this  principle  of  re- 
flection or  conscience  in  mankind.  It  is  needless  to 
compare  the  respect  it  has  to  private  good,  with  the  re- 
spect it  has  to  public;  since  it  plainly  tends  as  much  to 
the  latter  as  to  the  former,  and  is  commonly  thought  to 
tend  chiefly  to  the  latter.  This  faculty  is  now  mentioned 
merely  as  another  part  in  the  inward  frame  of  man, 
pointing  out  to  us  in  some  degree  what  we  are  intended 
for,  and  as  what  will  naturally  and  ot  course  have  some 
influence.  The  particular  place  assigned  to  it  by  nature, 
what  authority  it  has,  and  how  great  influence  it  ought 
have,  shall  be  hereafter  considered. 

From  this  comparison  of  benevolence  and  self-love, 
of  our  public  and  private  affections,  of  the  courses  of  life 
they  lead  to,  and  of  the  principle  of  reflection  or  con- 
science as  respecting  each  of  them,  it  is  as  manifest,  that 
we  were  made  for  society,  and  to  promote  the  happiness  of 
it ;  as  thai  we  were  intended  to  take  care  of  our  own  life, 
and  health,  and  private  good. 

And  from  this  whole  review  must  be  given  a  different 
draught  of  human  nature  from  what  we  are  often  pre- 
sented with.  Mankind  are  by  nature  so  closely  united, 
there  is  such  a  correspondence  between  the  inward  sen- 
sations of  one  man  and  those  of  another,  that  disgrace  is 
as  much  avoided  as  bodily  pain,  and  to  be  the  object  of 
esteem  and  love  as  much  desired  as  any  external  goods: 
and  in  many  particular  cases,  persons  are  carried  on  to 
do  good  to  others,  as  the  end  their  affection  tends  to  and 
rests  in  ;  and  manifest  that  they  find  real  satisfaction  and 
enjoyment  in  this  course  of  behaviour.  There  is  such  a 
natural  principle  of  attraction  in  man  towards  man,  that 
having  trod  the  same  tract  of  land,  having  breathed  in 
the  same  climate,  barely  having  been  in  the  same  arti- 
ficial district  or  division,  becomes  the  occasion  of  con- 
tracting acquaintances  and  familiarities  many  years  after: 
for  any  thing  may  serve  the  purpose.  Thus  relations 
merely  nominal  are  sought  and  invented,  not  by  gover- 
nors, but  by  the  lowest  of  the  people;  which  are  found 


Ba,  IJ  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  33 

sufficient  to  hold  mankind  together  in  little  fraternities 
and  copartnerships:  weak  ties  indeed,  and  what  may 
afford  fund  enough  for  ridicule,  if  they  are  absurdly  con- 
sidered as  the  real  principles  of  that  union:  but  they  are 
in  truth  merely  the  occasions,  as  any  thing  may  be  of 
any  thing,  upon  which  our  nature  carries  us  on  accord- 
ing to  its  own  previous  bent  and  bias;  which  occasions 
therefore  would  be  nothing  at  all,  were  there  not  this 
prior  disposition  and  bias  of  nature.  Men  are  so  much 
one  body,  that  in  a  peculiar  manner  they  feel  for  each 
other,  shame,  sudden  danger,  resentment,  honour,  pros- 
perity, distress ;  one  or  another,  or  all  of  these,  from  the 
social  nature  in  general,  from  benevolence,  upon  the 
occasion  of  natural  relation,  acquaintance,  protection, 
dependence;  each  of  these  being  distinct  cements  of 
society.  And  therefore  to  have  no  restraint  from,  no 
regard  to  others  in  our  behaviour,  is  the  speculative 
absurdity  of  considering  ourselves  as  single  and  inde- 
pendent, as  having  nothing  in  our  nature  which  has  re- 
spect to  our  fellow  creatures,  reduced  to  action  and 
practice.  And  this  is  the  same  absurdity,  as  to  suppose 
a  hand,  or  any  part,  to  have  no  natural  respect  to  any 
ather,  or  to  the  whole  body. 

But  allowing  all  this,  it  may  be  asked,  "  Has  not  man 
dispositions  and  principles  within,  which  lead  him  to  do 
evil  to  others,  as  well  as  to  do  good?  Whence  come 
the  many  miseries  else,  which  men  are  the  authors  and 
instruments  of  to  each  other?"  These  questions,  so  far 
as  they  relate  to  the  foregoing  discourse,  may  be  answer- 
ed by  asking,  Has  not  man  also  dispositions  and  prin- 
ciples within,  which  lead  him  to  do  evil  to  himself  as  well 
as  good?  Whence  come  the  many  miseries  else,  sick- 
ness, pain,  and  death,  which  men  are  instruments  and 
authors  of  to  themselves? 

It  may  be  thought  more  easy  to  answer  one  of  these 
questions  than  the  other,  but  the  answef  to  both  is  really 
the  same;  that  mankind  have  ungoverned  passions  which 
they  will  gratify  at  any  rate,  as  well  to  the  injury  of 
others,  as  in  contradiction  to  known  private  interest:  but 
that  as  there  is  no  such  thing  as  self-hatred,  so  neither 

is  there  any  ^such  thing  as  ill-will  in  one  man  towards 

c 


34  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  [Se».  I 

another,  emulation  and  resentment  being  away;  whereas 
there  is  plainly  benevolence  or  good- will:  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  love  of  injustice,  oppression,  treachery,  in- 
gratitude; but  only  eager  desires  after  such  and  such 
external  goods;  which,  according  to  a  very  ancient  ob- 
servation, the  most  abandoned  would  choose  to  obtain  by 
innocent  means,  if  they  were  as  easy,  and  as  effectual  to 
their  end:  that  even  emulation  and  resentment, by  any  one 
who  will  consider  what  these  passions  really  are  in  na- 
ture,* will  be  found  nothing  to  the  purpose  of  this  objec- 
tion :  and  that  the  principles  and  passions  in  the  mind  of 
man,  which  are  distinct  both  from  self-love  and  benevo- 
lence, primarily  and  most  directly  lead  to  right  behaviour 
with  regard  to  others  as  well  as  himself,  and  only  second- 
arily and  accidentally  to  what  is  evil.  Thus,  though  men, 
to  avoid  the  shame  of  one  villany,  are  sometimes  guilty  of 
a  greater,  yet  it  is  easy  to  see,  that  the  original  tendency 
of  shame  is  to  prevent  the  doing  of  shameful  actions; 
and  its  leading  men  to  conceal  such  actions  when  done, 
is  only  in  consequence  of  their  being  done ;  i.  e.  of  the 
passion's  not  having  answered  its  first  end. 

If  it  be  said,  that  there  are  persons  in  the  world,  who 
are  in  great  measure  without  the  natural  affections  to- 
wards their  fellow  creatures:  there  are  likewise  instances 
of  persons  without  the  common  natural  affections  to 
themselves:  but  the  nature  of  man  is  not  to  be  judged 
of  by  either  of  these,  but  by  what  appears  in  the  common 
world,  in  the  bulk  of  mankind. 

I  am  afraid  it  would  be  thought  very  strange,  if  to  con- 
firm the  truth  of  this  account  of  human  nature,  and  make 
out  the  justness  of  the  foregoing  comparison,  it  should 
be  added,  that,  from  what  appears,  men  in  fact  as  much 
and  as  often  contradict  that  part  of  their  nature  which 
respects  self,  and  which  leads  them  to  their  own  private 

*  Emulation  is  merely  the  desire  and  hope  of  equality  with,  or  superiority  over 
others,  with  whom  we  compare  ourselves.  There  does  not  appear  to  be  any  other 
fine/ in  the  natural  passion,  but  only  that  want  which  is  implied  in  desire.  However 
this  may  be  so  strong  as  to  be  the  occasion  of  great  grief.  To  desire  the  attainment 
of  this  equality  or  superiority  by  the  particular  means  of  others  being  brought  down 
to  our  own  level,  or  below  it,  is,  1  think,  the  distinct  notion  of  envy.  From  whence 
it  is  easy  to  see,  that  the  real  end,  which  the  natural  passion  emulation,  and  which 
the  unlawful  one  envy  aims  at,  is  exactly  the  same ;  namely,  that  equality  or  superi- 
ority:  and  consequently,  that  to  dn  mischief  is  not  the  end  of  envy,  but  merely  the 
ceans  it  makes  use  of  to  attain  its  end.    As  to  resentment,  see  the  eighth  sermon. 


Sib.  I.]  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  35 

good  and  happiness ;  as  they  contradict  that  pari  of  it 
which  respects  society,  and  tends  to  public  good:  that 
there  are  as  few  persons,  who  attain  the  greatest  satis- 
faction and  enjoyment  which  they  might  attain  in  the 
present  world ;  as  who  do  the  greatest  good  to  others 
which  they  might  do;  nay,  that  there  are  as  few  who 
can  be  said  really  and  in  earnest  to  aim  at  one,  as  at  the 
other.  Take  a  survey  of  mankind :  the  world  in  general, 
the  good  and  bad,  almost  without  exception,  equally  are 
agreed,  that  were  religion  out  of  the  case,  the  happiness 
of  the  present  life  would  consist  in  a  manner  wholly  in 
riches,  honours,  sensual  gratifications;  insomuch  that  one 
scarce  hears  a  reflection  made  upon  prudence,  life,  con- 
duct, but  upon  this  supposition.  Yet  on  the  contrary, 
that  persons  in  the  greatest  affluence  of  fortune  are  no 
happier  than  such  as  have  only  a  competency  ;  that  the 
cares  and  disappointments  of  ambition  for  the  most  part 
far  exceed  the  satisfactions  of  it;  as  also  the  miserable 
intervals  of  intemperance  and  excess,  and  the  many  un- 
timely deaths  occasioned  by  a  dissolute  course  of  life  ; 
these  things  are  all  seen,  acknowledged,  by  every  one  ac- 
knowledged; but  are  thought  no  objections  against,  though 
they  expressly  contradict,  this  universal  principle,  that  the 
happiness  of  the  present  life  consists  in  one  or  other  of 
them.  Whence  is  all  this  absurdity  and  contradiction?  Is 
not  the  middle  way  obvious  ?  Can  any  thing  be  more 
manifest,  than  that  the  happiness  of  life  consists  in  these 
possessed  and  enjoyed  only  to  a  certain  degree ;  that  to 
pursue  them  beyond  this  degree,  is  always  attended 
with  more  inconvenience  than  advantage  to  a  man's 
self,  and  often  with  extreme  misery  and  unhappiness. 
Whence  then,  I  say,  is  all  this  absurdity  and  contradic- 
tion ?  Is  it  really  the  result  of  consideration  in  man- 
kind, how  they  may  become  most  easy  to  themselves, 
most  free  from  care,  and  enjoy  the  chief  happiness 
attainable  in  this  world  ?  Or  is  it  not  manifestly  owing 
either  to  this,  that  they  have  not  cool  and  reasonable 
concern  enough  for  themselves  to  consider  wherein  their 
chief  happiness  in  the  present  life  consists ;  or  else,  if 
they  do  consider  it,  that  they  will  not  act  conformably 
to  what  is  the  result  of  that  consideration:  i.  e.  reasona- 

c2 


36  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  [8u.  L. 

ble  concern  for  themselves,  or  cool  self-love  is  prevailed 
over  by  passion  and  appetite.  So  that  from  what 
appears,  there  is  no  ground  to  assert  that  those  princi- 
ples in  the  nature  of  man,  which  most  directly  lead  to 
promote  the  good  of  our  fellow  creatures,  are  more 
generally  or  in  a  greater  degree  violated,  than  those, 
which  most  directly  lead  us  to  promote  our  own  private 
good  and  happiness. 

The  sum  of  the  whole  is  plainly  this.  The  nature  of 
man,  considered  in  his  single  capacity,  and  with  respect 
only  to  the  present  world,  is  adapted  and  leads  him  to 
attain  the  greatest  happiness  he  can  for  himself  in  the 
present  world.  The  nature  of  man,  considered  in  his 
public  or  social  capacity,  leads  him  to  a  right  behaviour 
in  society  to  that  course  of  life  which  we  call  virtue. 
Men  follow  or  obey  their  nature  in  both  these  capacities 
and  respects  to  a  "ertain  degree,  but  not  entirely  :  their 
actions  do  not  come  up  to  the  whole  of  what  their 
nature  leads  them  to  in  either  of  these  capacities  or 
respects:  and  they  often  violate  their  nature  in  both, 
i.  e.  as  they  neglect  the  duties  they  owe  to  their  fellow 
creatures,  to  which  their  nature  leads  them ;  and  are 
injurious,  to  which  their  nature  is  abhorrent ;  so  there 
is  a  manifest  negligence  in  men  of  their  real  happiness 
or  interest  in  the  present  world,  when  that  interest  is 
inconsistent  with  a  present  gratification  ;  for  the  sake  of 
which  they  negligently,  nay,  even  knowingly,  are  the 
authors  and  instruments  of  their  own  misery  and  ruin. 
Thus  they  are  as  often  unjust  to  themselves  as  to  others, 
and  for  the  most  part  are  equally  so  to  both  by  the 
same  actions. 


e«iLi 


UPON  HUMAN  NATURE. 


37 


SERMON  II.  III. 

(JPON  HUMAN  NATURE. 

For  when  the  Gentiles,  which  have  not  (lie  law,  do  by  nature  the 
things  contained  in  the  law,  these,  having  not  the  law,  are  a  law 
unto  themselves. — Rom.  ii.  14. 

As  speculative  truth  admits  of  different  kinds  of  proof, 
so  likewise  moral  obligations  may  be  shown  by  different 
methods.  If  the  real  nature  of  any  creature  leads  him 
and  is  adapted  to  such  and  such  purposes  only,  or  more 
than  to  any  other ;  this  is  a  reason  to  believe  the  author 
of  that  nature  intended  it  for  those  purposes.  Thus 
there  is  no  doubt  the  eye  was  intended  for  us  to  see 
with.  And  the  more  complex  any  constitution  is,  and 
the  greater  variety  of  parts  there  are  which  thus  tend  to 
some  one  end,  the  stronger  is  the  proof  that  such  end 
was  designed.  However,  when  the  inward  frame  of  man 
is  considered  as  any  guide  in  morals,  the  utmost  caution 
must  be  used  that  none  make  peculiarities  in  their  own 
temper,  or  any  thing  which  is  the  effect  of  particular 
customs,  though  observable  in  several,  the  standard  of 
what  is  common  to  the  species;  and  above  all,  that  the 
highest  principle  be  not  forgot  or  excluded,  that  to  which 
belongs  the  adjustment  and  correction  of  all  other  inward 
movements  and  affections:  which  principle  will  of  course 
have  some  influence,  but  which  being  in  nature  supreme, 
as  shall  now  be  shown,  ought  to  preside  over  and  govern 
all  the  rest.  The  difficulty  of  rightly  observing  the  two 
former  cautions;  the  appearance  there  is  of  some  small 
diversity  amongst  mankind  with  respect  to  this  faculty, 
with  respect  to  their  natural  sense  of  moral  good  and 
evil;  and  the  attention  necessary  to  survey  with  any 
exactness  what  passes  within,  have  occasioned  that  it  is 
not  so  much  agreed  what  is  the  standard  of  the  internal 
nature  of  man,  as  of  his  external  form.  Neither  is  this 
last  exactly  settled.  Yet  we  understand  one  another 
when  we  speak  of  the  shape  of  a  human  body:  so  like- 
wise we  do  when  we  speak  of  the  heart  and  inward 


38  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  [Shl  IL 

principles,  how  far  soever  the  standard  is  from  being 
exact  or  precisely  fixed.  There  is  therefore  ground  for 
an  attempt  of  showing  men  to  themselves,  of  showing 
them  what  course  of  life  and  behaviour  their  real  nature 
points  out  and  would  lead  them  to.  Now  obligations  of 
virtue  shown,  and  motives  to  the  practice  of  it  enforced, 
from  a  review  of  the  nature  of  man,  are  to  be  considered 
as  an  appeal  to  each  particular  person's  heart  and  natural 
conscience:  as  the  external  senses  are  appealed  to  for 
the  proof  of  things  cognizable  by  them.  Since  then  our 
inward  feelings,  and  the  perceptions  we  receive  from  our 
external  senses,  are  equally  real;  to  argue  from  the  for- 
mer to  life  and  conduct  is  as  little  liable  to  exception,  as 
to  argue  from  the  latter  to  absolute  speculative  truth. 
A  man  can  as  little  doubt  whether  his  eyes  were  given 
him  to  see  with,  as  he  can  doubt  of  the  truth  of  the 
science  of  optics,  deduced  from  ocular  experiments. 
And  allowing  the  inward  feeling,  shame ;  a  man  can  as 
little  doubt  whether  it  was  given  him  to  prevent  his 
doing  shameful  actions,  as  he  can  doubt  whether  his  eyes 
were  given  him  to  guide  his  steps.  And  as  to  these  in- 
ward feelings  themselves;  that  they  are  real,  that  man 
has  in  his  nature  passions  and  affections,  can  no  more  be 
questioned,  than  that  he  has  external  senses.  Neither 
can  the  former  be  wholly  mistaken ;  though  to  a  certain 
degree  liable  to  greater  mistakes  than  the  latter. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  several  propensions 
or  instincts,  several  principles  in  the  heart  of  man,  carry 
him  to  society,  and  to  contribute  to  the  happiness  of  it, 
in  a  sense  and  a  manner  in  which  no  inward  principle 
leads  him  to  evil.  These  principles,  propensions,  or  in- 
stincts which  lead  him  to  do  good,  are  approved  of  by  a 
certain  faculty  within,  quite  distinct  from  these  propen- 
sions themselves.  All  this  hath  been  fully  made  out  in 
the  foregoing  discourse. 

But  it  may  be  said,  "  What  is  all  this,  though  true,  to 
the  purpose  of  virtue  and  religion?  these  require,  not 
only  that  we  do  good  to  others  when  we  are  led  this 
way,  by  benevolence  or  reflection,  happening  to  be 
stronger  than  other  principles,  passions,  or  appetites; 
but  likewise  that  the  whole  character  be  formed  upon 


Sol  II.]  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  39 

thought  and  reflection ;  that  every  action  be  directed  by- 
some  determinate  rule,  some  other  rule  than  the  strength 
and  prevalency  of  any  principle  or  passion.  What  sign 
is  there  in  our  nature  (for  the  inquiry  is  only  about  what 
is  to  be  collected  from  thence)  that  this  was  intended  by 
its  Author?  Or  how  does  so  various  and  fickle  a  temper 
as  that  of  man  appear  adapted  thereto?  It  may  indeed 
be  absurd  and  unnatural  for  men  to  act  without  any  re- 
flection; nay,  without  regard  to  that  particular  kind  of 
reflection  which  you  call  conscience;  because  this  does 
belong  to  our  nature.  For  as  there  never  was  a  man 
but  who  approved  one  place,  prospect,  building,  before 
another:  so  it  does  not  appear  that  there  ever  was  a  man 
who  would  not  have  approved  an  action  of  humanity 
rather  than  of  cruelty;  interest  and  passion  being  quite 
out  of  the  case.  But  interest  and  passion  do  come  in, 
and  are  often  too  strong  for  and  prevail  over  reflection 
and  conscience.  Now  as  brutes  have  various  instincts, 
by  which  they  are  carried  on  to  the  end  the  Author  of 
their  nature  intended  them  for:  is  not  man  in  the  same 
condition ;  with  this  difference  only,  that  to  his  instincts 
(i.  e.  appetites  and  passions)  is  added  the  principle  of 
reflection  or  conscience?  And  as  brutes  act  agreeably 
to  their  nature,  in  following  that  principle  or  particular 
instinct  which  for  the  present  is  strongest  in  them :  does' 
not  man  likewise  act  agreeably  to  his  nature,  or  obey  the 
law  of  his  creation,  by  following  that  principle,  be  it  pas- 
sion or  conscience,  which  for  the  present  happens  to  be 
strongest  in  him?  Thus  different  men  are  by  their  par- 
ticular nature  hurried  on  to  pursue  honour,  or  riches,  or 
pleasure:  there  are  also  persons  whose  temper  leads 
them  in  an  uncommon  degree  to  kindness,  compassion, 
doing  good  to  their  fellow  creatures:  as  there  are  others 
who  are  given  to  suspend  their  judgment,  to  weigh  and 
consider  things,  and  to  act  upon  thought  and  reflection. 
Let  every  one  then  quietly  follow  his  nature;  as  passion, 
reflection,  appetite,  the  several  parts  of  it,  happen  to  be 
strongest:  but  let  not  the  man  of  virtue  take  upon  him 
to  blame  the  ambitious,  the  covetous,  the  dissolute;  since 
these  equally  with  him  obey  and  follow  their  nature. 
Thus,  as  in  some  cases  we  follow  our  nature  in  doing, 


40  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  Per.  II 

the  work !  contained  in  the  law,  so  in  other  cases  we  fol- 
low nature  in  doing  contrary." 

Now  all  this  licentious  talk  entirely  goes  upon  a  sup- 
position, that  men  follow  their  nature  in  the  same  sense, 
in  violating  the  known  rules  of  justice  and  honesty  for 
the  sake  of  a  present  gratification,  as  they  do  in  following 
those  rules  when  they  have  no  temptation  to  the  contrary. 
And  if  this  were  true,  that  could  not  be  so  which  St  Paul 
asserts,  that  men  are  by  nature  a  law  to  themselves.  If 
by  following  nature  were  meant  only  acting  as  we  please, 
it  wTould  indeed  be  ridiculous  to  speak  of  nature  as  any 
guide  in  morals :  nay  the  very  mention  of  deviating  from 
nature  would  be  absurd;  and  the  mention  of  following 
it,  when  spoken  by  way  of  distinction,  would  absolutely 
have  no  meaning.  For  did  ever  any  one  act  otherwise 
than  as  he  pleased?  And  yet  the  ancients  speak  of 
deviating  from  nature  as  vice;  and  of  following  nature 
so  much  as  a  distinction,  that  according  to  them  the  per- 
fection of  virtue  consists  therein.  So  that  language  itself 
should  teach  people  another  sense  to  the  words  following 
nature,  than  barely  acting  as  we  please.  Let  it  however 
be  observed,  that  though  the  words  human  nature  are  to 
be  explained,  yet  the  real  question  of  this  discourse  is 
not  concerning  the  meaning  of  words,  any  other  than  as 
the  explanation  of  them  may  be  needful  to  make  out  and 
explain  the  assertion,  that  every  man  is  naturally  a  law 
to  himself,  that  every  one  may  find  within  himself  the  ride 
of  right,  and  obligations  to  follow  it.  This  St  Paul  affirms 
in  the  words  of  the  text,  and  this  the  foregoing  objection 
reallv  denies  by  seeming  to  allow  it.  ■  And  the  objection 
will  be  fully  answered,  and  the  text  before  us  explained, 
by  observing  that  nature  is  considered  in  different  views, 
and  the  word  used  in  different  senses;  and  by  showing 
in  what  view  it  is  considered,  and  in  what  sense  the 
word  is  used,  when  intended  to  express  and  signify  that 
which  is  the  guide  of  life,  that  by  which  men  are  a  law 
to  themselves.  I  say,  the  explanation  of  the  term  will 
be  sufficient,  because  from  thence  it  will  appear,  that  in 
some  senses  of  the  word  nature  cannot  be,  but  that  in 
another  sense  it  manifestly  is,  a  law  to  us. 

I.  By  nature  is  often  meant  no  more  than  some  prin 


8n.  II.]  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  41 

ciple  in  man,  without  regard  either  to  the  kind  or  degree 
of  it.  Thus  the  passion  of  anger,  and  the  affection  of 
parents  to  their  children,  would  be  called  equally  natural. 
And  as  the  same  person  hath  often  contrary  principles, 
which  at  the  same  time  draw  contrary  ways,  he  may  by 
the  same  action  both  follow  and  contradict  his  nature  in 
this  sense  of  the  word;  he  may  follow  one  passion  and 
contradict  another. 

II.  Nature  is  frequently  spoken  of  as  consisting  in 
those  passions  which  are  strongest,  and  most  influence 
the  actions;  which  being  vicious  ones,  mankind  is  in 
this  sense  naturally  vicious,  or  vicious  by  nature.  Thus 
St  Paul  says  of  the  Gentiles,  who  were  dead  in  trespasses 
and  sins,  and  walked  according  to  the  spirit  of  disobedience, 
that  they  were  by  nature  the  children  of  wrath*  They 
could  be  no  otherwise  children  of  wrath  by  nature,  than 
they  were  vicious  by  nature. 

Here  then  are  two  different  senses  of  the  word  nature, 
in  neither  of  which  men  can  at  all  be  said  to  be  a  law  to 
themselves.  They  are  mentioned  only  to  be  excluded; 
to  prevent  their  being  confounded,  as  the  latter  is  in  thp 
objection,  with  another  sense  of  it,  which  is  now  to  be 
inquired  after  and  explained. 

III.  The  apostle  asserts,  that  the  Gentiles  do  by  na- 
ture the  things  contained  in  the  law.  Nature  is  indeed 
here  put  by  way  of  distinction  from  revelation,  but  yet  it 
is  not  a  mere  negative.  He  intends  to  express  more 
than  that  by  which  they  did  not,  that  by  which  they  did 
the  works  of  the  law;  namely,  by  nature.  It  is  plain 
the  meaning  of  the  word  is  not  the  same  in  this  passage 
as  in  the  former,  where  it  is  spoken  of  as  evil ;  for  in 
this  latter  it  is  spoken  of  as  good;  as  that  by  which  they 
acted,  or  might  have  acted  virtuously.  What  that  is  in 
man  by  which  he  is  naturally  a  law  to  himself,  is  ex- 
plained in  the  following  words:  Which  shew  the  work  of 
the  law  written  in  their  hearts,  their  consciences  also  bear- 
ing witness,  and  their  thoughts  the  mean  while  accusing  or 
else  excusing  one  another.  If  there  be  a  distinction  to  be 
made  between  the  works  written  in  their  hearts,  and  the 
witness  of  conscience;  by  the  former  must  be  meant  the 

*  Eplies.  ii.  ?i 


42  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  [Skb.  II 

natural  disposition  to  kindness  and  compassion,  to  do 
what  is  of  good  report,  to  which  this  apostle  often  refers : 
that  part  of  the  nature  of  man,  treated  of  in  the  foregoing 
discourse,  which  with  very  little  reflection  and  of  course 
leads  him  to  society,  and  by  means  of  which  he  naturally 
acts  a  just  and  good  part  in  it,  unless  other  passions  or 
interests  lead  him  astray.  Yet  since  other  passions,  and 
regards  to  private  interest,  which  lead  us  (though  in- 
directly, yet  they  lead  us)  astray,  are  themselves  in  a 
degree  equally  natural,  and  often  most  prevalent;  and 
since  we  have  no  method  of  seeing  the  particular  de- 
grees m  which  one  or  the  other  is  placed  in  us  by 
nature;  it  is  plain  the  former,  considered  merely  as 
natural,  good  and  right  as  they  are,  can  no  more  be  a 
law  to  us  than  the  latter.  But  there  is  a  superior  prin- 
ciple of  reflection  or  conscience  in  every  man,  which 
distinguishes  .between  the  internal  principles  of  his  heart, 
as  well  as  his  external  actions :  which  passes  judgment 
upon  himself  and  them ;  pronounces  determinately  some 
actions  to  be  in  themselves  just,  right,  good;  others  to 
be  in  themselves  evil,  wrong,  unjust :  which,  without 
being  consulted,  without  being  advised  with,  magiste- 
rially exerts  itself,  and  approve^  or  condemns  him  the 
doer  of  them  accordingly :  and  which,  if  not  forcibly 
stopped,  naturally  and  always  of  course  goes  on  to  an- 
ticipate a  higher  and  more  effectual  sentence,  which  shall 
hereafter  second  and  affirm  its  own.  But  this  part  of 
the  office  of  conscience  is  beyond  my  present  design 
explicitly  to  consider.  It  is  by  this  faculty,  natural  to 
man,  that  he  is  a  moral  agent,  that  he  is  a  law  to  him- 
self: but  this  faculty,  I  say,  not  to  be  considered  merely 
as  a  principle  in  his  heart,  which  is  to  have  some  in- 
fluence as  well  as  others ;  but  considered  as  a  faculty  in 
kind  and  in  nature  supreme  over  all  others,  and  wrhich 
bears  its  own  authority  j>f  being  so. 

This  prerogative,  this  natural  supremacy,  of  the  faculty 
which  surveys,  approves  or  disapproves  the  several  affec- 
tions of  our  mind  and  actions  of  our  lives,  being  that  by 
which  men  are  a  law  to  themselves,  their  conformity  or 
disobedience  to  which  law  of  our  nature  renders  their 
actions,  in  the  highest  and  most  proper  sense,  natural  or 


SiiR.II.]  UPON  Ht  MAN  NATURE.  43 

unnatural;  it  is  fit  it  be  further  explained  to  you:  and  I 
hope  it  will  be  so,  if  you  will  attend  to  the  following 
reflections. 

Man  may  act  according  to  that  principle  or  inclina- 
tion which  for  the  present  happens  to  be  strongest,  and 
yet  act  in  a  way  disproportionate  to,  and  violate  his  real 
proper  nature.  Suppose  a  brute  creature  by  any  bait  to 
be  allured  into  a  snare,  by  which  he  is  destroyed.  He 
plainly  followed  the  bent  of  his  nature,  leading  him  to 
gratify  his  appetite:  there  is  an  entire  correspondence 
between  his  whole  nature  and  such  an  action:  such 
action  therefore  is  natural.  But  suppose  a  man,  fore- 
seeing the  same  danger  of  certain  ruin,  should  rush  into 
it  for  the  sake  of  a  present  gratification;  he  in  this  in- 
stance would  follow  his  strongest  desire,  as  did  the  brute 
creature:  but  there  would  be  as  manifest  a  disproportion, 
between  the  nature  of  a  man  and  such  an  action,  as 
between  the  meanest  work  of  art  and  the  skill  of  the 
greatest  master  in  that  art:  which  disproportion  arises, 
not  from  considering  the  action  singly  in  itself,  or  in  its 
consequences ;  but  from  comparison  of  it  with  the  nature 
of  the  agent.  And  since  such  an  action  is  utterly  dis- 
proportionate to  the  nature  of  man,  it  is  in  the  strictest 
and  most  proper  sense  unnatural;  this  word  expressing 
that  disproportion.  Therefore  instead  of  the  words  dis- 
proportionate to  his  nature,  the  word  unnatural  may  now 
be  put;  this  being  more  familiar  to  us:  but  let  it  be 
observed,  that  it  stands  for  the  same  thing  precisely. 

Now  what  is  it  which  renders  such  a  rash  action 
unnatural?  Is  it  that  he  went  against  the  principle  of 
reasonable  and  cool  self-love,  considered  merely  as  a 
part  of  his  nature?  No:  for  if  he  had  acted  the  con- 
trary way,  he  would  equally  have  gone  against  a  princi- 
ple, or  part  of  h'\<  nature,  namely,  passion  or  appetite. 
But  to  deny  a  present  appetite,  from  foresight  that  the 
gratification  of  it  would  end  in  immediate  ruin  or  extreme 
misery,  is  by  no  means  an  unnatural  action;  whereas  to 
contradict  or  go  against  cool  self-love  for  the  sake  of 
such  gratification,  is  so  in  the  instance  before  us.  Such 
an  action  then  being  unnatural;  and  its  being  so  not 
arising  from  a  man's  going  against  a  principle  or  desire 


44  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  [8i».  II. 

barely,  nor  in  going  against  that  principle  or  desire  which 
happens  for  the  present  to  be  strongest;  it  necessarily 
follows,  that  there  must  be  some  other  difference  or 
distinction  to  be  made  between  these  two  principles, 
passion  and  cool  self-love,  than  what  I  have  yet  taken 
notice  of.  And  this  difference,  not  being  a  difference  in 
strength  or  degree,  I  call  a  difference  in  nature  and  in 
kind.  And  since,  in  the  instance  still  before  us,  if  pas- 
sion prevails  over  self-love,  the  consequent  action  is 
unnatural ;  but  if  self-love  prevails  over  passion,  the  ac- 
tion is  natural:  it  is  manifest  that  self-love  is  in  human 
nature  a  superior  principle  to  passion.  This  may  be 
contradicted  without  violating  that  nature ;  but  the  for- 
mer cannot.  So  that,  if  we  will  act  conformably  to  the 
economy  of  man's  nature,  reasonable  self-love  must 
govern.  Thus,  without  particular  consideration  of  con- 
science, we  may  have  a  clear  conception  of  the  superior 
nature  of  one  inward  principle  to  another;  and  see  that 
there  really  is  this  natural  superiority,  quite  distinct  from 
degrees  of  strength  and  prevalency. 

Let  us  now  take  a  view  of  the  nature  of  man,  as  con- 
sisting partly  of  various  appetites,  passions,  affections, 
and  partly  of  the  principle  of  reflection  or  conscience; 
leaving  quite  out  all  consideration  of  the  different  degrees 
of  strength,  in  which  either  of  them  prevail,  and  it  will 
further  appear  that  there  is  this  natural  superiority  of 
one  inward  principle  to  another,  and  that  it  is  even  part 
of  the  idea  of  reflection  or  conscience. 

Passion  or  appetite  implies  a  direct  simple  tendency 
towards  such  and  such  objects,  without  distinction  of  the 
means  by  which  they  are  to  be  obtained.  Consequently 
it  will  often  happen  there  will  be  a  desire  of  particular 
objects,  in  cases  where  they  cannot  be  obtained  without 
manifest  injury  to  others.  Reflection  or  conscience  comes 
in,  and  disapproves  the  pursuit  of  them  in  these  circum- 
stances ;  but  the  desire  remains.  Which  is  to  be  obeyed, 
appetite  or  reflection  ?  Cannot  this  question  be  answered, 
from  the  economy  and  constitution  of  human  nature  mere- 
ly, without  saying  which  is  strongest?  Or  need  this  at  all 
come  into  consideration?  WouH  not  the  question  be 
intelligibly  and  fully  answered  by  saying,  that  the  prin- 


8lKi  n.]  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE,  45 

ciple  of  reflection  or  conscience  being  compared  with 
the  various  appetites,  passions,  and  affections  in  men, 
the  former  is  manifestly  superior  and  chief,  without  le- 
gard  to  strength?  And  how  often  soever  the  latter 
happens  to  prevail,  it  is  mere  usurpation:  the  former  re- 
mains in  nature  and  in  kind  its  superior;  and  every 
instance  of  such  prevalence  of  the  latter  is  an  instance 
of  breaking  in  upon  and  violation  of  the  constitution  of 
man. 

All  this  is  no  more  than  the  distinction,  which  every 
body  is  acquainted  with,  between  mere  power  and  autho- 
rity: only  instead  of  being  intended  to  express  the  dif- 
ference between  what  is  possible,  and  what  is  lawful  in 
civil  government ;  here  it  has  been  shown  applicable  to 
the  several  principles  in  the  mind  of  man.  Thus  that 
principle,  by  which  we  survey,  and  either  approve  or 
disapprove  our  own  heart,  temper,  and  actions,  is  not 
only  to  be  considered  as  what  is  in  its  turn  to  have  some 
influence;  which  may  be  said  of  every  passion,  of  the 
lowest  appetites:  but  likewise  as  being  superior;  as  from 
its  very  nature  manifestly  claiming  superiority  over  all 
others;  insomuch  that  you  cannot  form  a  notion  of  this 
faculty,  conscience,  without  taking  in  judgment,  direc- 
tion, superintendency.  This  is  a  constituent  part  of  the 
idea,  that  is,  of  the  faculty  itself:  and,  to  preside  and  go- 
vern, from  the  very  economy  and  constitution  of  man, 
belongs  to  it.  Had  it  strength,  as  it  had  right:  had  it 
power,  as  it  had  manifest  authority,  it  would  absolutely 
govern  the  world. 

This  gives  us  a  further  view  of  the  nature  of  man  ; 
shows  us  what  course  of  life  we  were  made  for:  not  only 
that  our  real  nature  leads  us  to  be  influenced  in  some 
degree  by  reflection  and  conscience;  but  likewise  in  what 
degree  we  are  to  be  influenced  by  it,  if  we  will  fall  in  with, 
and  act  agreeably  to  the  constitution  of  our  nature:  that 
this  faculty  was  placed  within  to  be  our  proper  governor; 
to  direct  and  regulate  all  under  principles,  passions,  and 
motives  of  action.  This  is  its  right  and  office :  thus 
sacred  is  its  authority.  And  how  often  soever  men 
violate  and  rebelliously  refuse  to  submit  to  it,  for  sup- 
posed interest  which  they  cannot  otherwise  obtain,  or 


40  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  pKB.  |j. 

for  the  sake  of  passion  which  they  cannot  otherwise 
gratify ;  this  makes  no  alteration  as  to  the  natural  right 
and  office  of  conscience. 

Let  us  now  turn  this  whole  matter  another  way,  and 
suppose  there  was  no  such  thing  at  all  as  this  natural 
supremacy  of  conscience ;  that  there  was  no  distinction 
to  be  made  between  one  inward  principle  and  another, 
but  only  that  of  strength;  and  see  what  would  be  the 
consequence. 

Consider  then  what  is  the  latitude  and  compass  of  fhe 
actions  of  man  with  regard  to  himself,  his  fellow  crea- 
tures, and  the  Supreme  Being?  What  are  their  bounds, 
besides  that  of  our  natural  power?  With  respect  to  the 
two  first,  they  are  plainly  no  other  than  these ;  no  man 
seeks  misery  as  such  for  himself;  and  no  one  unprovoked 
does  mischief  to  another  for  its  own  sake.  For  in  every 
degree  within  these  bounds,  mankind  knowingly  from 
passion  or  wantonness  bring  ruin  and  misery  upon  them- 
selves and  others.  And  impiety  and  profaneness,  I 
mean,  what  every  one  would  call  so  who  believes  the 
being  of  God,  have  absolutely  no  bounds  at  all.  Men 
blaspheme  the  Author  of  nature,  formally  and  in  words 
renounce  their  allegiance  to  their  Creator.  Put  an  in- 
stance then  with  respect  to  any  one  of  these  three. 
Though  we  should  suppose  profane  swearing,  and  in 
general  that  kind  of  impiety  now  mentioned,  to  mean 
nothing,  yet  it  implies  wanton  disregard  and  irreverence 
towards  an  infinite  Being,  our  Creator;  and  is  this  as 
suitable  to  the  nature  of  man,  as  reverence  and  dutiful 
submission  of  heart  towards  that  Almighty  Being?  Or 
suppose  a  man  guilty  of  parricide,  with  all  the  circum- 
stances of  cruelty  which  such  an  action  can  admit  of. 
This  action  is  done  in  consequence  of  its  principle  being 
for  the  present  strongest:  and  if  there  be  no  difference 
between  inward  principles,  but  only  that  of  strength ;  the 
strength  being  given,  you  have  the  whole  nature  of  the 
man  given,  so  far  as  it  relates  to  this  matter.  The  ac- 
tion plainly  corresponds  to  the  principle,  the  principle 
being  in  that  degree  of  strength  it  was :  it  therefore  cor- 
responds to  the  whole  nature  of  the  man.  Upon  com- 
paring the  action  and  the  whole  nature,  there  arises  no 


Bk,,  HI.]  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  47 

disproportion,  there  appears  no  unsuitableness  between 
them.  Thus  the  murder  of  a  father  and  the  nature  of 
man  correspond  to  each  other,  as  the  same  nature  and 
an  act  of  filial  duty.  If  there  be  no  difference  between 
inward  principles,  but  only  that  of  strength;  we  can 
make  no  distinction  between  these  two  actions,  con- 
sidered as  the  actions  of  such  a  creature;  but  in  our 
coolest  hours  must  approve  or  disapprove  them  equally: 
than  which  nothing  can  be  reduced  to  a  greater  absurd- 
ity. 

SERMON  III. 

The  natural  supremacy  of  reflection  or  conscience  being 
thus  established;  we  may  from  it  form  a  distinct  notion 
of  what  is  meant  by  human  nature,  when  virtue  is  said 
to  consist  in  following  it,  and  vice  in  deviating  from  it. 

As  the  idea  of  a  civil  constitution  .mplies  in  it  united 
strength,  various  subordinations,  under  one  direction, 
that  of  the  supreme  authority ;  the  different  strength  of 
each  particular  member  of  the  society  not  coming  into 
the  idea ;  whereas,  if  you  leave  out  the  subordination, 
the  union,  and  the  one  direction,  you  destroy  and  lose 
it :  so  reason,  several  appetites,  passions,  and  affections, 
prevailing  in  different  degrees  of  strength,  is  not  that 
idea  or  notion  of  human  nature;  but  that  nature  consists 
in  these  several  principles  considered  as  having  a  natural 
respect  to  each  other,  in  the  several  passions  being 
naturally  subordinate  to  the  one  superior  principle  of 
reflection  or  conscience.  Every  bias,  instinct,  propen- 
sion  within,  is  a  natural  part  of  our  nature,  but  not  the 
whole  :  add  to  these  the  superior  faculty,  whose  office  it 
is  to  adjust,  manage,  and  preside  over  them,  and  take 
in  this  its  natural  superiority,  and  you  complete  the  idea 
of  human  nature.  And  as  in  civil  government  the  con- 
stitution is  broken  in  upon,  and  violated  by  power  and 
strength  prevailing  over  authority ;  so  the  constitution 
of  man  is  broken  in  upon  and  violated  by  the  lower 
faculties  or  principles  within  prevailing  over  that  which 
is  in  its  nature  supreme  over  them  all.  Thus,  when  it  is 
said  by  ancient  writers,  that  tortures  and  death  are  not 


48 


VhoS  HUMAN  NATURE. 


[Snu  II!. 


so  contrary  to  human  nature  as  injustice ;  by  this  to  be 
sure  is  not  meant,  that  the  aversion  to  the  former  in 
mankind  is  less  strong  and  prevalent  than  their  aversion 
to  the  latter :  but  that  the  former  is  only  contrary  to  our 
nature  considered  in  a  partial  view,  and  which  takes  in 
only  the  lowest  part  of  it,  that  which  we  have  in  com- 
mon with  the  brutes ;  whereas  the  latter  is  contrary  to 
our  nature,  considered  in  a  higher  sense,  as  a  system 
and  constitution  contrarv  to  the  whole  economv  of  man.* 

And  from  all  these  things  put  together,  nothing  can 
be  more  evident,  than  that,  exclusive  of  revelation,  man 
cannot  be  considered  as  a  creature  left  by  his  Maker  to 
act  at  random,  and  live  at  large  up  to  the  extent  of  his 
natural  power,  as  passion,  humour,  wilfulness,  happen 
to  carry  him  ;  which  is  the  condition  brute  creatures 
are  in  :  but  that  from  his  make,  constitution,  or  nature, 
he  is  in  the  strictest  and  most  proper  sense  a  law  to  him- 
self. He  hath  the  rule  of  right  within :  what  is  wanting 
is  only  that  he  honestly  attend  to  it. 

The  inquiries  which  have  been  made  by  men  of  lei- 

*  Every  man  in  his  physical  nature  is  one  individual  single  agent.  He  has  like- 
wise properties  and  principles,  each  of  which  may  be  considered  separately,  and 
without  regard  to  the  respects  which  they  have  to  each  other.  Neither  of  these  are 
the  nature  we  are  taking  a  view  of.  But  it  is  the  inward  frame  of  man  considered 
as  a  system  or  constitution  :  whose  several  parts  are  united,  not  by  a  physical  princi- 
ple of  individuation,  but  by  the  respects  they  have  to  each  other  ;  the  chief  of  which 
is  the  subjection  which  the  appetites,  passions,  and  particular  affections  have  to  the 
one  supreme  principle  of  reflection  or  conscience.  The  system  or  constitution  is 
formed  liy  and  consists  in  these  respects  and  this  subjection.  Thus  the  body  is  a 
system  or  constitution  :  so  is  a  tree  :  so  is  every  machine.  Consider  a!l  the  several 
parts  of  a  tree  without  the  natural  respects  they  have  to  each  other,  and  you  have 
not  at  all  the  idea  of  a  tree  ;  but  add  these  respects,  and  this  gives  you  the  idea. 
The  body  may  be  impaired  by  sickness,  a  tree  may  decay,  a  machine  be  out  of  order, 
and  yet  the  system  and  constitution  of  them  not  totally  dissolved.  There  is  plainly 
somewhat  which  answers  to  all  this  in  the  moral  constitution  of  man.  Whoever  will 
consider  his  own  nature,  will  see  that  the  several  appetites,  passions,  and  particular 
affections,  have  different  respects  amongst  themselves.  They  are  restraints  upon, 
and  are  in  a  proportion  to  each  other.  This  proportion  is  just  and  perfect,  when  all 
those  under  principles  are  perfectly  coincident  with  conscience,  so  far  as  their  nature 
permits,  and  in  all  cases  under  its  absolute  and  entire  direction.  The  least  excess  or 
defect,  tlie  least  alteration  of  the  due  jroportions  amongst  themselves,  or  of  their 
coincidence  with  conscience,  though  not  proceeding  into  action,  is  some  degree  of 
disorder  in  the  moral  constitution.  But  perfection,  though  plainly  intelligible  and 
unsupposaole,  was  never  attained  by  any  man.  If  the  higher  principle  of  reflection 
maintains  its  place,  and  as  much  as  it  can  corrects  that  disorder,  and  hinders  it  from 
breaking  out  into  action,  this  is  all  that  can  be  expected  from  such  a  creature  as  man. 
And  though  the  appetites  and  passions  have  not  their  exact  due  proportion  to  each 
other ;  though  they  often  strive  for  mastery  with  judgment  or  reflection  :  yet,  since 
the  superiority  of  this  principle  to  all  others  is  the  chief  respect  which  forms  the 
constitution,  so  far  as  this  superiority  is  maintained,  the  character,  the  man,  is  good, 
worthy,  virtuous. 


ta.  III.] 


UPON  HUMAN  NATURE. 


49 


sure  after  some  general  rule,  the  conformity  to,  or  dis- 
agreement from  which,  should  denominate  our  actions 
good  or  evil,  are  in  many  respects  of  great  service.  Yet 
let  any  plain  honest  man,  before  he  engages  in  any 
course  of  action,  ask  himself,  Is  this  I  am  going  about 
right,  or  is  it  wrong  ?  Is  it  good,  or  is  it  evil  P  I  do 
not  in  the  least  doubt,  but  that  this  question  would  be 
answered  agreeably  to  truth  and  virtue,  by  almost  any 
fair  man  in  almost  any  circumstance.  Neither  do  there 
appear  any  cases  which  look  like  exceptions  to  this; 
but  those  of  superstition,  and  of  partiality  to  ourselves. 
Superstition  may  perhaps  be  somewhat  of  an  excep- 
tion: but  partiality  to  ourselves  is  not;  this  being  itself 
dishonesty.  For  a  man  to  judge  that  to  be  the  equita- 
ble, the  moderate,  the  right  part  for  him  to  act,  which 
he  would  see  to  be  hard,  unjust,  oppressive  in  another; 
this  is  plain  vice,  and  can  proceed  only  from  great  un- 
fairness of  mind. 

But  allowing  chat  mankind  hath  the  rule  of  right  within 
himself,  yet  it  may  be  asked,  "What  obligations  are  we 
under  to  attend  to  and  follow  it?"  I  answer:  it  has, 
been  proved  that  man  by  his  nature  is  a  law  to  himself, 
without  the  particular  distinct  consideration  of  the  posi- 
tive sanctions  of  that  law;  the  rewards  and  punishments 
which  we  feel,  and  those  which  from  the  light  of  reason 
we  have  ground  to  believe,  are  annexed  to  it.  The 
question  then  carries  its  own  answer  along  with  it. 
Your  obligation  to  obey  this  law,  is  its  being  the  law  of 
your  nature.  That  your  conscience  approves  of  and 
attests  to  such  a  course  of  action,  is  itself  alone  an  obli- 
gation. Conscience  does  not  only  offer  itself  to  show 
us  the  way  we  should  walk  in,  but  it  likewise  carries  its 
own  authority  with  it,  that  it  is  our  natural  guide  ;  the 
guide  assigned  us  by  the  Author  of  our  nature:  it  there- 
fore belongs  to  our  condition  of  being,  it  is  our  duty  to' 
walk  in  that  path,  and  follow  this  guide,  without  looking 
about  to  see  whether  we  may  not  possibly  forsake  them 
with  impunity. 

However,  let  us  hear  what  is  to  be  said  against  obey- 
ing this  law  of  our  nature.  And  the  sum  is  no  more 
than  this.    "Why  should  we  be  concerned  about  any 


50  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  [Se».  IIL 

thing  out  of  and  beyond  ourselves  ?  If  we  do  find  with- 
in ourselves  regards  to  others,  and  restraints  of  we  know 
not  how  many  different  kinds;  yet  these  being  embar- 
rassments, and  hindering  us  from  going  the  nearest  way 
to  our  own  good,  why  should  we  not  endeavour  to  sup- 
press and  get  over  them?" 

Thus  people  go  on  with  words,  which,  when  applied 
to  human  nature,  and  the  condition  in  which  it  is  placed 
in  this  world,  have  really  no  meaning.  For  does  not 
all  this  kind  of  talk  go  upon  supposition,  that  our  hap- 
piness in  this  world  consists  in  somewhat  quite  distinct 
from  regard  to  others;  and  that  it  is  the  privilege  of  vice 
to  be  without  restraint  or  confinement?  Whereas,  on 
the  contrary,  the  enjoyments,  in  a  manner  all  the  com- 
mon enjoyments  of  life,  even  the  pleasures  of  vice,  de- 
pend upon  these  regards  of  one  kind  or  another  to  our 
fellow  creatures.  Throw  off  all  regards  to  others,  and 
we  should  be  quite  indifferent  to  infamy  and  to  honour; 
there  could  be  no  such  thing  at  all  as  ambition;  and 
scarce  any  such  thing  as  covetousness ;  for  we  should 
likewise  be  equally  indiffeient  to  the  disgrace  of  poverty, 
the  several  neglects  and  kinds  of  contempt  which  accom- 
pany this  state  ;  and  to  the  reputation  of  riches,  the  re- 
gard and  respect  they  usually  procure.  Neither  is  re- 
straint by  any  means  peculiar  to  one  course  of  life :  but 
■our  very  nature,  exclusive  of  conscience  and  our  condi- 
tion, lays  us  under  an  absolute  necessity  of  it.  We  can- 
not gain  any  end  whatever  without  being  confined  to  the 
proper  means,  which  is  often  the  most  painful  and  un- 
easy confinement.  And  in  numberless  instances  a  pre- 
sent appetite  cannot  be  gratified  without  such  apparent 
and  immediate  ruin  and  misery,  that  the  most  dissolute 
man  in  the  world  chooses  to  forego  the  pleasure,  rathei 
than  endure  the  pain. 

Is  the  meaning  then,  to  indulge  those  regards  to  our 
fellow  creatures,  and  submit  to  those  restraints,  which 
upon  the  whole  are  attended  with  more  satisfaction  than 
uneasiness,  and  get  over  only  those  which  bring  more 
uneasiness  and  inconvenience  than  satisfaction?  "  Doubt- 
less this  was  our  meaning."  You  have  changed  sides 
then.    Keep  to  this  ;  be  consistent  with  yourselves;  and 


SuulH.]  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  51 

you  and  the  men  of  virtue  are  in  general  perfectly  agreed. 
But  let  us  take  care  and  avoid  mistakes.  Let  it  not  le 
taken  for  granted  that  the  temper  of  envy,  rage,  resent- 
ment, yields  greater  delight  than  meekness,  forgiveness, 
compassion,  and  good-will:  especially  when  it  is  acknow- 
ledged that  rage,  envy,  resentment,  are  in  themselves 
mere  misery;  and  the  satisfaction  arising  from  the  indul- 
gence of  them  is  little  more  than  relief  from  that  misery ; 
whereas  the  temper  of  compassion  and  benevolence 
is  itself  delightful ;  and  the  indulgence  of  it,  by  do- 
ing good,  affords  new  positive  delight  and  enjoyment. 
Let  it  not  be  taken  for  granted,  that  the  satisfaction  aris- 
ing from  the  reputation  of  riches  and  power,  however 
obtained,  and  from  the  respect  paid  to  them,  is  greater 
than  the  satisfaction  arising  from  the  reputation  of  jus- 
tice, honesty,  charity,  and  the  esteem  which  is  universally 
acknowledged  to  be  their  due.  And  if  it  be  doubtful 
which  of  these  satisfactions  is  the  greatest,  as  there  are 
persons  who  think  neither  of  them  very  considerable, 
yet  there  can  be  no  doubt  concerning  ambition  and 
covetousness,  virtue  and  a  good  mind,  considered  in 
themselves,  and  as  leading  to  different  courses  of  lifc; 
there  can,  I  say,  be  no  doubt,  which  temper  and  which 
course  is  attended  with  most  peace  and  tranquillity  of 
mind,  which  with  most  perplexity,  vexation,  and  incon- 
venience. And  both  the  virtues  and  vices  which  have 
been  now  mentioned,  do  in  a  manner  equally  implv  in 
them  regards  of  one  kind  or  another  to  our  fellow  crea- 
tures. And  with  respect  to  restraint  and  confinement: 
whoever  will  consider  the  restraints  from  fear  and  shame, 
the  dissimulation,  mean  arts  of  concealment,  servile 
compliances,  one  or  other  of  which  belong  to  almost  every 
course  of  vice,  will  soon  be  convinced  that  the  man  of 
virtue  is  by  no  means  upon  a  disadvantage  in  this  re- 
spect. How  many  instances  are  there  in  which  men 
feel  and  own  and  cry  aloud  under  the  chains  of  vice 
with  which  they  are  enthralled,  and  which  yet  they  will 
not  shake  off!  How  many  instances,  in  which  persons 
manifestly  go  through  more  pains  and  self-denial  to 
gratify  a  vicious  passion,  than  would  have  been  neces- 
aary  to  the  conquest  of  it!    To  this  is  to  be  added,  that 

I)  8 


52  UPON  HUMAN  NATURE.  [gA  HI, 

when  virtue  is  become  habitual,  when  the  temper  of  it 
is  acquired,  what  was  before  confinement  ceases  to  be 
so,  by  becoming  choice  and  delight.  Whatever  re- 
straint and  guard  upon  ourselves  may  be  needful  to 
unlearn  any  unnatural  distortion  or  odd  gesture;  yet, 
in  all  propriety  of  speech,  natural  behaviour  must  be 
the  most  easy  and  unrestrained.  It  is  manifest  that,  in 
the  common  course  of  life,  there  is  seldom  any  incon- 
sistency between  our  duty  and  what  is  called  interest:  it 
is  much  seldomer  that  there  is  an  inconsistency  between 
duty  and  what  is  really  our  present  interest;  meaning 
by  interest,  happiness  and  satisfaction.  Self-love  then, 
though  confined  to  the  interest  of  the  present  world, 
does  in  general  perfectly  coincide  with  virtue;  and  leads 
us  to  one  and  the  same  course  of  life.  But,  whatever 
exceptions  there  are  to  this,  which  are  much  fewer  than 
they  are  commonly  thought,  all  shall  be  set  right  at  the 
final  distribution  of  things.  It  is  a  manifest  absurdity 
to  suppose  evil  prevailing  finally  over  good,  under  the 
conduct  and  administration  of  a  perfect  mind. 

The  whole  argument,  which  I  have  been  now  insist- 
ing upon,  may  be  thus  summed  up*  and  given  you  in 
one  view.  The  nature  of  man,  is  adapted  to  some  course 
of  action  or  other.  Upon  comparing  some  actions  with 
this  nature,  they  appear  suitable  and  correspondent  to 
it:  from  comparison  of  other  actions  with  the  same  na- 
ture, there  arises  to  our  view  some  unsuitableness  or 
*  disproportion.  The  correspondence  of  actions  to  the 
nature  of  the  agent  renders  them  natural:  their  dispro- 
portion to  it,  unnatural.  That  an  action  is  correspon- 
dent to  the  nature  of  the  agent,  does  not  arise  from  its 
being  agreeable  to  the  principle  which  happens  to  be 
the  strongest:  for  it  may  be  so,  and  yet  be  quite  dispro- 
portionate to  the  nature  of  the  agent.  The  correspon- 
dence therefore,  or  disproportion,  arises  from  somewhat 
else.  This  can  be  nothing  but  a  difference  in  nature 
and  kind,  altogether  distinct  from  strength,  between  the 
inward  principles.  Some  then  are  in  nature  and  kind 
superior  to  others.  And  the  correspondence  arises  from 
the  action  being  conformable  to  the  higher  principle; 
and  the  unsuitableness  from  its  being  contrary  to  it 


SnulVJ  UPON  THE  GOVERNMENT,  ETC.  53 

Reasonable  self-love  and  conscience  are  the  chief  or 
superior  principles  in  the  nature  of  man:  because  an 
action  may  be  suitable  to  this  nature,  though  all  other 
principles  be  violated;  but  becomes  unsuitable,  if  either 
of  those  are.  Conscience  and  self-love,  if  we  understand 
our  true  happiness,  always  lead  us  the  same  way.  Duty 
and  interest  are  perfectly  coincident:  for  the  most  part 
in  this  world,  but  entirely  and  in  every  instance  if  we 
take  in  the  future,  and  the  whole  ;  this  being  implied  in 
the  notion  of  a  good  and  perfect  administration  of  things. 
Thus  they  who  have  been  so  wise  in  their  generation  as 
to  regard  only  their  own  supposed  interest,  at  the  ex- 
pense and  to  the  injury  of  others,  shall  at  last  find,  that 
he  who  has  given  up  all  the  advantages  of  the  present 
world,  rather  than  violate  his  conscience  and  the  rela- 
tions of  life,  has  infinitely  better  provided  for  himself, 
and  secured  his  own  interest  and  happiness. 


SERMON  IV. 

UPON  THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  TONGUE. 

//"  any  man  among  yon  seem  to  he  religious,  and  bridleth  not  his 
tongue,  but  deceiveth  his  own  heart,  this  man's  religion  is  vain. — 
James  i.  26. 

The  translation  of  this  text  would  be  more  determinate 
by  being  more  literal,  thus:  If  any  man  among  you  seemeth 
to  be  religious,  not  bridling  his  tongue,  but  deceiving  his  own 
•  heart,  this  mans  religion  is  vain.  This  determines,  that 
the  words,  but  deceiveth  his  own  heart,  are  not  put  in  op- 
position to,  seemeth  to  be  religious,  but  to,  bridleth  not  his 
tongue.  The  certain  determinate  meaning  of  the  text 
then  being,  that  he  who  seemtth  to  be  religious,  and 
bridleth  not  his  tongue,  but  in  that  particular  deceiveth 
his  own  heart,  this  man's  religion  is  vain;  we  may  ob- 
serve somewhat  very  forcible  and  expressive  in  these 
words  of  St  James.  As  if  the  apostle  had  said,  No  man 
surely  can  make  any  pretences  to  religion,  who  does  not 
at  least  believe  that  he  bridleth  his  tongue:  if  he  puts  on 


54  UPON  THE  GOVERNMENT  [Sra.  IV. 

any  appearance  or  face  of  religion,  and  yet  does  not 
go\ern  his  tongue,  he  must  surely  deceive  himself  in 
that  particular,  and  think  he  does:  and  whoever  is  so 
unhappy  as  to  deceive  himself  in  this,  to  imagine  he 
keeps  that  unruly  faculty  in  due  subjection,  when  indeed 
he  does  not,  whatever  the  other  part  of  his  life  be,  his 
religion  is  vain ;  the  government  of  the  tongue  being  a 
most  material  restraint  which  virtue  lays  us  under:  with- 
out it  no  man  can  be  truly  religious. 

In  treating  upon  this  subject,  I  will  consider, 

First,  What  is  the  general  vice  or  fault  here  referred 
to :  or  what  disposition  in  men  is  supposed  in  moral  re- 
flections and  precepts  concerning  bridling  the  tongue. 

Secondly,  When  it  may  be  said  of  any  one,  that  he 
has  a  due  government  over  himself  in  this  respect. 

I.  Now  the  fault  referred  to,  and  the  disposition  sup- 
posed, in  precepts  and  reflections  concerning  the  govern- 
ment of  the  tongue,  is  not  evil-speaking  from  malice, 
nor  lying  or  bearing  false  witness  from  indirect  selfish 
designs.  The  disposition  to  these,  and  the  actual  vices 
themselves,  all  come  under  other  subjects.  The  tongue 
may  be  employed  about,  and  made  to  serve  all  the  pur- 
poses of  vice,  in  tempting  and  deceiving,  in  perjury  and 
injustice.  But  the  thing  here  supposed  and  referred  to,  is 
talkativeness:  a  disposition  to  be  talking,  abstracted  from 
the  consideration  of  what  is  to  be  said;  with  very  little 
or  no  regard  to,  or  thought  of  doing,  either  good  or 
harm.  And  let  not  any  imagine  this  to  be  a  slight 
matter,  and  that  it  deserves  not  to  have  so  great  weight 
laid  upon  it;  till  he  has  considered,  what  evil  is  implied 
in  it,  and  the  bad  effects  which  follow  from  it.  It  is 
perhaps  true,  that  they  who  are  addicted  to  this  folly 
would  choose  to  confine  themselves  to  trifles  and  indif- 
ferent subjects,  and  so  intend  only  to  be  guilty  of  being 
impertinent:  but  as  they  cannot  go  on  for  ever  talking 
of  nothing,  as  common  matters  will  not  afford  a  sufficient 
fund  for  perpetual  continued  discourse:  when  subjects 
of  this  kind  are  exhausted,  they  will  go  on  to  defamation, 
scandal,  divulging  of  secrets,  their  own  secrets  as  well  as 
those  of  ~thers,  any  thing  rather  than  be  silent.  They 
are  plainly  hurried  on  in  the  heat  of  their  talk  to  say 


g^i.  iv  )  OF  THE  TONGUE.  55 

quite  different  things  from  what  they  first  intended,  and 
which  they  afterwards  wish  unsaid:  or  improper  things, 
which  they  had  no  end  in  saying,  but  only  to  afford  em- 
ployment to  their  tongue.  And  if  these  people  expect 
to  be  heard  and  regarded,  for  there  are  some  content 
merely  with  talking,  they  will  invent  to  engage  your  at- 
tention :  and,  when  they  have  heard  the  least  imperfect 
hint  of  an  affair,  they  will  out  of  their  own  head  add  the 
circumstances  of  time  and  place,  and  other  matters  to 
make  out  their  story,  and  give  the  appearance  of  proba- 
bility to  it :  not  that  they  have  any  concern  about  being 
believed,  otherwise  than  as  a  means  of  being  heard.  The 
thing  is,  to  engage  your  attention ;  to  take  you  up  wholly 
for  the  present  time:  what  reflections  will  be  made  after- 
wards, is  in  truth  the  least  of  their  thoughts.  And  further, 
when  persons,  who  indulge  themselves  in  these  liberties 
of  the  tongue,  are  in  any  degree  offended  with  another, 
as  little  disgusts  and  misunderstandings  will  be,  they 
allow  themselves  to  defame  and  revile  such  a  one  with- 
out any  moderation  or  bounds  ;  though  the  offence  is  so 
very  slight,  that  they  themselves  would  not  do,  nor  per- 
haps wish  him  an  injury  in  any  other  way.  And  in  this 
case  the  scandal  and  revilings  are  chiefly  owing  to  talka- 
tiveness, and  not  bridling  their  tongue ;  and  so  come 
under  our  present  subject.  The  least  occasion  in  the 
world  will  make  the  humour  break  out  in  this  particular 
way,  or  in  another.  It  is  like  a  torrent,  which  must  and 
will  flow ;  but  the  least  thing  imaginable  will  first  of  all 
give  it  either  this  or  another  direction,  turn  it  into  this 
or  that  channel :  or  like  a  fire ;  the  nature  of  which, 
when  in  a  heap  of  combustible  matter,  is  to  spread  and 
lay  waste  all  around  ;  but  any  one  of  a  thousand  little 
accidents  will  occasion  it  to  break  out  first  either  in  this 
or  another  particular  part. 

The  subject  then  before  us,  though  it  does  run  up  into, 
and  can  scarce  be  treated  as  entirely  distinct  from  all 
others;  yet  it  needs  not  to  be  so  much  mixed  or  blended 
with  them  as  it  often  is.  Every  faculty  and  power  may 
be  used  as  the  instrument  of  premeditated  vice  and 
wickedness,  merely  a?  the  most  proper  and  effectual 
tneans  of  executing  such  designs.    But  if  a  man,  front 


*»°  UPON  THE  GOVERNMENT  [Skr.  17 

deep  malice  and  desire  of  revenge,  should  meditate  a 
falsehood  with  a  settled  design  to  ruin  his  neighbour  s 
reputation,  and  should  with  great  coolness  and  delibera- 
tion spread  it;  nobody  would  choose  to  say  of  such  a 
one,  that  he  had  no  government  of  his  tongue.  A  man 
may  use  the  faculty  of  speech  as  an  instrument  of  false 
witness,  who  yet  has  so  entire  a  command  over  that 
faculty,  as  never  to  speak  but  from  forethought  and  cool 
design-  Here  the  crime  is  injustice  and  perjury:  and, 
strictly  speaking,  no  more  belongs  to  the  present  subject, 
than  perjury  and  injustice  in  any  other  way.  But  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  a  disposition  to  be  talking  for  its  own 
sake;  from  which  persons  often  say  any  thing,  good  or 
bad,  of  others,  merely  as  a  subject  of  discourse,  accord- 
ing to  the  particular  temper  they  themselves  happen  to 
be  in,  and  to  pass  away  the  present  time.  There  is  like- 
wise to  be  observed  in  persons  such  a  strong  and  eager 
desire  of  engaging  attention  to  what  they  say,  that  they 
will  speak  good  or  evil,  truth  or  otherwise,  merely  as 
one  or  the  other  seems  to  be  most  hearkened  to :  and 
this,  though  it  is  sometimes  joined,  is  not  the  same  with 
the  desire  of  being  thought  important  arid  men  of  conse- 
quence. There  is  in  some  such  a  disposition  to  be  talk- 
ing, that  an  offence  of  the  slightest  kind,  and  such  as 
would  not  raise  any  other  resentment,  yet  raises,  if  I 
may  so  speak,  the  resentment  of  the  tongue,  puts  it  into 
a  flame,  into  the  most  ungovernable  motions.  This  out- 
rage, when  the  person  it  respects  is  present,  we  dis- 
tinguish in  the  lower  rank  of  people  by  a  peculiar  term : 
and  let  it  be  observed,  that  though  the  decencies  of 
behaviour  are  a  little  kept,  the  same  outrage  and  viru- 
lence, indulged  when  he  is  absent,  is  an  offence  of  the 
same  kind.  But  not  to  distinguish  any  farther  in  this 
manner:  men  run  into  faults  and  follies,  which  cannot 
50  properly  be  referred  to  any  one  general  head  as  this, 
that  they  have  not  a  due  government  over  their  tongue. 

And  this  unrestrained  volubility  and  wantonness  of 
speech  is  the  occasion  of  numberless  evils  and  vexations 
in  life.  It  begets  resentment  in  him  who  is  the  subject 
of  it;  sows  the  seed  of  strife  and  dissension  amongst 
others:  and  inflames  little  disgusts  and  offences,  which 


8ma  lv-j  OF  THE  TONGUE.  57 

if  let  alone  would  wear  away  of  themselves:  it  is  often 
of  as  bad  effect  upon  the  good  name  of  others,  as  deep  envy 
or  malice:  and,  to  say  the  least  of  it  in  this  respect,  it 
destroys  and  perverts  a  certain  equity  of  the  utmost  im- 
portance to  society  to  be  observed;  namely,  that  praise 
and  dispraise,  a  good  or  bad  character,  should  always 
be  bestowed  according  to  desert.  The  tongue  used  in 
such  a  licentious  manner  is  like  a  sword  in  the  hand  of 
a  madman;  it  is  employed  at  random,  it  can  scarce  pos- 
sibly do  any  good,  and  for  the  most  part  does  a  world 
of  mischief;  and  implies  not  only  great  folly  and  a  trifling 
spirit,  but  great  viciousness  of  mind,  great  indifference 
to  truth  and  falsity,  and  to  the  reputation,  welfare,  and 
good  of  others.  So  much  reason  is  there  for  what  St 
James  says  of  the  tongue.*  It  is  a  fire,  a  world  of  ini- 
quity, it  defileth  the  whole  body,  setteth  on  fire  the  course  of 
nature,  and  is  itself  set  on  fire  of  hell.  This  is  the  faculty 
or  disposition  which  we  are  required  to  keep  a  guard 
upon :  these  are  the  vices  and  follies  it  runs  into,  when 
not  kept  under  due  restraint. 

II.  Wherein  the  due  government  of  the  tongue  con- 
sists, or  when  it  may  be  said  of  any  one  in  a  moral  and 
religious  sense  that  he  bridleth  his  tongue,  I  come  now  to 
consider. 

The  due  and  proper  use  of  any  natural  faculty  or 
power,  is  to  be  judged  of  by  the  end  and  design  for  which 
it  was  given  us.  The  chief  purpose,  for  which  the  faculty 
of  speech  was  given  to  man,  is  plainly  that  we  might 
communicate  our  thoughts  to  each  other,  in  order  to 
carry  on  the  affairs  of  the  world;  for  business,  and  for 
our  improvement  in  knowledge  and  learning.  But  the 
good  Author  of  our  nature  designed  us  not  only  neces- 
saries, but  likewise  enjoyment  and  satisfaction,  in  that 
being  he  hath  graciously  given,  and  in  that  condition  ot 
life  he  hath  placed  us  in.  There  are  secondary  uses  ot 
our  faculties:  they  administer  to  delight,  as  well  as  to 
necessity:  and  as  they  are  equally  adapted  to  both,  there 
is  no  doubt  but  he  intended  them  for  our  gratification, 
as  well  as  for  the  support  and  continuance  of  our  being. 
The  secondary  use  of  speech  is  to  please  and  be  enter  - 

*  Chap.  iii.  ver.  6. 


58  UPON  THE  GOVERNMENT  (Ser.  IV, 

taining  to  each  other  in  conversation.  This  is  in  every 
respect  allowable  and  right:  it  unites  men  closer  in 
alliances  and  friendships ;  gives  us  a  fellow  feeling  of  the 
prosperity  and  unhappiness  of  each  other;  and  is  in  seve- 
ral respects  serviceable  to  virtue,  and  to  promote  good 
behaviour  in  the  world.  And  provided  there  be  not  too 
much  time  spent  in  if,  if  it  were  considered  only  in  the 
way  of  gratification  and  delight,  men  must  have  strange 
notions  of  God  and  of  religion,  to  think  that  he  can  be 
offended  with  it,  or  that  it  is  any  way  inconsistent  with 
the  strictest  virtue.  But  the  truth  is,  such  sort  of  con- 
versation, though  it  has  no  particular  good  tendency,  yet 
it  has  a  general  good  one:  it  is  social  and  friendly,  and 
tends  to  promote  humanity,  good-nature,  and  civility. 

As  the  end  and  use,  so  likewise  the  abuse  of  speech, 
relates  to  the  one  or  other  of  these;  either  to  business, 
or  to  conversation.  As  to  the  former;  deceit  in  the 
management  of  business  and  affairs  does  not  properly 
belong  to  the  subject  now  before  us:  though  one  may 
just  mention  that  multitude,  that  endless  number  of 
words,  with  which  business  is  perplexed;  when  a  much 
fewer  would,  as  it  should  seem,  better  serve  the  purpose: 
but  this  must  be  left  to  those  who  understand  the  matter. 
The  government  of  the  tongue,  considered  as  a  subject 
of  itself,  relates  chiefly  to  conversation;  to  that  kind  of 
discourse  which  usually  fills  up  the  time  spent  in  friendly 
meetings,  and  visits  of  civility.  And  the  danger  is,  lest 
persons  entertain  themselves  and  others  at  the  expense 
of  their  wisdom  and  their  virtue,  and  to  the  injury  or 
offence  of  their  neighbour.  If  they  will  observe  and  keep 
clear  of  these,  they  may  be  as  free,  and  easy,  and  unre- 
served, as  they  can  desire. 

The  cautions  to  be  given  for  avoiding  these  dangers, 
and  to  render  conversation  innocent  and  agreeable,  fall 
under  the  following  particulars:  silence;  talking  of  in- 
different things;  and  which  makes  up  too  great  a  part 
of  conversation,  giving  of  characters,  speaking  well  or 
evil  of  others. 

r"he  Wise  Man  observes,  that  there  is  a  time  to  speak, 
and  a  time  to  keep  silence.  One  meets  with  people  in 
the  world,  who  seem  never  to  have  made  the  last  of  these 


to.  nr.]  OP  THE  TONGUE.  59 

observations.  And  yet  these  great  talkers  do  not  at  all 
speak  from  their  having  any  thing  to  say,  as  every  sen- 
tence shows,  but  only  from  their  inclination  to  be  talking. 
Their  conversation  is  merely  an  exercise  of  the  tongue: 
no  other  human  faculty  has  any  share  in  it.  It  is  strange 
these  persons  can  help  reflecting,  that  unless  they  have 
in  truth  a  superior  capacity,  and  are  in  an  extraordinary 
manner  furnished  for  conversation;  if  they  are  enter- 
taining, it  is  at  their  own  expense.  Is  it  possible,  that 
it  should  never  come  into  people's  thoughts  to  suspect, 
whether  or  no  it  be  to  their  advantage  to  show  so  very 
much  of  themselves  ?  Oh  that  you  would  altogether  hold 
your  peace,  and  it  should  be  your  wisdom*  Remember 
likewise  there  are  persons  who  love  fewer  words,  an 
inoffensive  sort  of  people,  and  who  deserve  some  regard, 
though  of  too  still  and  composed  tempers  for  you.  Of 
this  number  was  the  son  of  Sirach:  for  he  plainly  speaks 
from  experience,  when  he  says,  As  hills  of  sands  are  to 
the  steps  of  the  t~ged,  so  is  one  of  many  words  to  a  quiet 
man.  But  one  would  think  it  should  be  obvious  to  every 
one,  that  when  they  are  in  company  ith  their  superiors 
of  any  kind,  in  years,  knowledge,  and  experience:  when 
proper  and  useful  subjects  are  discoursed  of,  which  they 
cannot  bear  a  part  in;  that  these  are  times  for  silence: 
when  they  should  learn  to  hear,  and  be  attentive ;  at  least 
in  their  turn.  It  is  indeed  a  very  unhappy  way  these 
people  are  in :  they  in  a  manner  cut  themselves  out  from 
all  advantage  of  conversation,  except  that  of  being  enter- 
tained with  their  own  talk:  their  business  in  coming  into 
company  not  being  at  all  to  be  informed,  to  hear,  to 
learn;  but  to  display  themselves;  or  rather  to  exert  their 
faculty,  and  talk  without  any  design  at  all.  And  if  we 
consider  conversation  as  an  entertainment,  as  somewhat 
to  unbend  the  mind ;  as  a  diversion  from  the  cares,  the 
business,  and  the  sorrows  of  life  ;  it  is  of  the  very  nature 
of  it,  that  the  discourse  be  mutual.  This,  I  say  is  im- 
plied in  the  very  notion  of  what  we  distinguish  jy  con- 
versation, or  being  in  company.  Attention  to  the  con- 
tinued discourse  of  one  alone  grows  more  painful  often, 
than  the  cares  and  business  we  come  to  be  diverted  from. 


*  Job  xiii. 


60  UPON  THE  GOVERNMENT  [S«.  17. 

He  therefore  who  imposes  this  upon  us  is  guilty  of  a 
double  offence ;  arbitrarily  enjoining  silence  upon  all  the 
rest,  and  likewise  obliging  them  to  this  painful  attention. 

I  am  sensible  these  things  are  apt  to  be  passed  over, 
as  too  little  to  come  into  a  serious  discourse:  but  in  real- 
ity men  are  obliged,  even  in  point  of  morality  and  virtue, 
to  observe  all  the  decencies  of  behaviour.  The  greatest 
evils  in  life  have  had  their  rise  from  somewhat,  which 
was  thought  of  too  little  importance  to  be  attended  to. 
And  as  to  the  matter  we  are  now  upon,  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  be  considered.  For  if  people  will  not 
maintain  a  due  government  over  themselves,  in  regard- 
ing proper  times  and  seasons  for  silence,  but  will  be 
talking;  they  certainly,  whether  they  design  it  or  not  at 
first,  will  go  on  to  scandal  and  evil-speaking,  and  divulg- 
ing secrets. 

If  it  were  needful  to  say  any  thing  further,  to  persuade 
men  to  learn  this  lesson  of  silence ;  one  might  put  them 
in  mind,  how  insignificant  they  render  themselves  by 
this  excessive  talkativeness:  insomuch  that,  if  they  do 
chance  to  say  any  thing  which  deserves  to  be  attended 
to  and  regarded,  it  is  lost  in  the  variety  and  abundance 
which  they  utter  of  another  sort. 

The  occasions  of  silence  then  are  obvious,  and  one 
would  think  should  be  easily  distinguished  by  every 
body :  namely,  when  a  man  has  nothing  to  say ;  or  no- 
thing, but  what  is  better  unsaid:  better,  either  in  regard  to 
particular  persons  he  is  present  with ;  or  from  its  being 
an  interruption  to  conversation  itself;  or  to  conversation 
of  a  more  agreeable  kind ;  or  better,  lastly,  with  regard 
to  himself.  I  will  end  this  particular  with  two  reflec- 
tions of  the  Wise  Man:  one  of  which,  in  the  strongest 
manner,  exposes  the  ridiculous  part  of  this  licentiousness 
of  the  tongue ;  and  the  other,  the  great  danger  and  vi- 
ciousness  of  it.  When  he  that  is  a  fool  walketh  by  the 
way  side,  his  wisdom  faileth  him,  and  he  saith  to  every 
one  that  he  is  a  fool.*  The  other  is,  In  the  multitude  of 
words  there  wanteth  not  sin.i 

As  to  the  government  of  the  tongue  in  respect  to  talk- 
ing upon  indifferent  subjects :  after  what  has  been  said 

*  Eccies.  x.  3.  t  Prov.  x.  19. 


go.  IV.]  OF  THE  TONGUE.  61 

concerning  the  due  government  of  it  in  respect  to  the 
occasions  and  times  for  silence,  there  is  little  more  ne- 
cessary, than  only  to  caution  men  to  be  fully  satisfied, 
that  the  subjects  are  indeed  of  an  indifferent  nature ;  and 
not  to  spend  too  much  time  in  conversation  of  this  kind. 
But  persons  must  be  sure  to  take  heed,  that  the  subject 
of  their  discourse  be  at  least  of  an  indifferent  nature  : 
that  it  be  no  way  offensive  to  virtue,  religion,  or  good 
manners ;  that  it  be  not  of  a  licentious  dissolute  sort, 
this  leaving  always  ill  impressions  upon  the  mind;  that 
it  be  no  way  injurious  or  vexatious  to  others;  and  that 
too  much  time  be  not  spent  this  way,  to  the  neglect  of 
those  duties  and  offices  of  life  which  belong  to  their  sta- 
tion and  condition  in  the  world.  However,  though  there 
is  not  any  necessity  that  men  should  aim  at  being  im- 
portant and  weighty  ir.  every  sentence  they  speak:  yet 
since  useful  subjects,  at  least  of  some  kinds,  are  as  en 
tertaining  as  others;  a  wise  man,  even  when  he  desires 
to  unbend  his  mind  from  business,  would  choose  that 
the  conversation  might  turn  upon  somewhat  instructive. 

The  last  thing  is,  the  government  of  the  tongue  as  re- 
lating to  discourse  of  the  affairs  of  others,  and  giving  of 
characters.  These  are  in  a  manner  the  same:  and  one 
can  scarce  call  it  an  indifferent  subject,  because  discourse 
upon  it  almost  perpetually  runs  into  somewhat  criminal. 

And  first  of  all,  it  were  very  much  to  be  wished  that 
this  did  not  take  up  so  great  a  part  of  conversation;  be- 
cause it  is  indeed  a  subject  of  a  dangerous  nature.  Let 
any  one  consider  the  various  interests,  competitions,  and 
little  misunderstandings  which  arise  amongst  men;  and 
he  will  soon  see,  that  he  is  not  unprejudiced  and  impar- 
tial; that  he  is  not,  as  I  may  speak,  neutral  enough,  to 
trust  himself  with  talking  of  the  character  and  concerns 
of  his  neighbour,  in  a  free,  careless,  and  unreserved 
manner.  There  is  perpetually,  and  often  it  is  not  at- 
tended to,  a  rivalship  amongst  people  of  one  kind  or  an- 
other, in  respect  to  wit,  beauty,  learning,  fortune,  and 
that  one  thing  will  insensibly  influence  them  to  speak  to 
the  disadvantage  of  others,  even  where  there  is  no  form- 
ed malice  or  ill  design.  Since  therefore  it  is  so  hard  to 
enter  into  this  subject  without  offending,  the  first  thing 


62 


UPON  THE  GOVERNMENT 


rSEB.  IV. 


to  be  observed  is,  that  people  should  learn  to  decline  it; 
to  get  over  that  strong  inclination  most  have  to  be  talk- 
ing of  the  concerns  and  behaviour  of  their  neighbour. 

But  since  it  is  impossible  that  this  subject  should  be 
wholly  excluded  conversation;  and  since  it  is  necessary 
that  the  characters  of  men  should  be  known:  the  next 
thing  is,  that  it  is  a  matter  of  importance  what  is  said; 
and  therefore,  that  we  should  be  religiously  scrupulous 
and  exact  to  say  nothing,  either  good  or  bad,  but  what 
is  true.    I  put  it  thus,  because  it  is  in  reality  of  as 
great  importance  to  the  good  of  society,  that  the  char- 
acters of  bad  men  should  be  known,  as  that  the  charac- 
ters of  good  men  should.    People,  who  are  given  to 
scandal  and  detraction,  may  indeed  make  an  ill  use  of 
this  observation  ;  but  truths  which  are  of  service  towards 
regulating  our  conduct,  are  not  to  be  disowned,  or  even 
concealed  because  a  bad  use  may  be  made  of  them. 
This  however  would  be  effectually  prevented,  if  these 
two  things  were  attended  to.    First,  That,  though  it  is 
equally  of  bad  consequence  to  society,  that  men  should 
have  either  good  or  ill  characters  which  they  do  not 
deserve;  yet,  when  you  say  somewhat  good  of  a  man 
which  he  does  not  deserve,  there  is  no  wrong  done  him 
in  particular;  whereas,  when  you  say  evil  of  a  man 
which  he  does  not  deserve,  here  is  a  direct  formal  injury, 
a  real  piece  of  injustice  done  him.    This  therefore  makes 
a  wide  difference;  and  gives  us,  in  point  of  virtue,  much 
greater  latitude  in  speaking  well  than  ill  of  others. 
Secondly,  A  good  man  is  friendly  to  his  fellow  creatures, 
and  a  lover  of  mankind;  and  so  will,  upon  every  occa- 
sion, and  often  without  any,  say  all  the  good  he  can  of 
every  body:  but  so  far  as  he  is  a  good  man,  will  never 
be  disposed  to  speak  evil  of  any,  unless  there  be  some 
other  reason  for  it,  besides  barely  that  it  is  true.    If  he 
be  charged  with  having  given  an  ill  character,  he  will 
scarce  think  it  a  sufficient  justification  of  himself  to  say 
it  was  a  true  one,  unless  he  can  also  give  some  further 
account  how  he  came  to  do  so:  a  just  indignation  against 
particular  instances  of  villany,  where  they  are  great  and 
scandalous;  or  to  prevent  an  innocent  man  from  being 
deceived  and  betraved,  when  he  has  great  trust  and 


Sou  IV. 


OF  THE  TONGUE. 


63 


confidence  in  one  who  does  not  deserve  it.  Justice  must 
be  done  to  every  part  of  a  subject  when  we  are  consider- 
ing it.  If  there  be  a  man,  who  bears  a  fair  character  in  the 
world,  whom  yet  we  know  to  be  without  faith  or  honesty, 
to  be  really  an  ill  man;  it  must  be  allowed  in  general,  that 
we  shall  do  a  piece  of  service  to  society,  by  letting  such 
a  one's  true  character  be  known.  This  is  no  more  than 
what  we  have  an  instance  of  in  our  Saviour  himself; 
though  he  was  mild  and  gentle  beyond  example.*  How- 
ever, no  words  can  express  too  strongly  the  caution 
which  should  be  used  in  such  a  case  as  this. 

Upon  the  whole  matter:  If  people  would  observe  the 
obvious  occasions  of  silence,  if  they  would  subdue  the  in- 
clinations to  tale-bearing,  and  that  eager  desire  to  engage 
attention,  which  is  an  original  disease  in  some  minds; 
they  would  be  in  little  danger  of  offending  with  their 
tongue;  and  would,  in  a  moral  and  religious  sense,  have 
due  government  over  it. 

I  will  conclude  with  some  precepts  and  reflections  of 
the  Son  of  Sirach  upon  this  subject.  Be  swift  to  hear; 
and,  if  thou  hast  understanding,  answer  thy  neighbour;  if 
not,  lay  thy  hand  upon  thy  mouth.  Honour  and  shame  is 
in  talk.  A  man  of  an  ill  tongue  is  dangerous  in  his  city, 
and  he  that  is  rash  in  his  talk  shall  be  hated.  A  wise  man 
will  hold  his  tongue  till  he  see  opportunity;  but  a  babbler 
and  a  fool  will  regard  no  time.  He  that  useth  many  words 
shall  be  abhorred;  and  he  that  taketh  to  himself  authority 
therein,  shall  be  hated.  A  backbiting  tongue  hath  disquieted 
many;  strong  cities  hath  it  pulled  down,  and  overthrown 
the  houses  of  great  men.  The  tongue  of  a  man  is  his  fall; 
but  if  thou  love  to  hear,  thou  shalt  receive  understanding. 

*  Mark  xii.  88,  40. 


64 


UPON  COMPASSION. 


[8ka.T. 


SERMON  V. 

UPON  COMPASSION 

Rejoice  with  them  that  do  rejoice,  mid  iivcp  with  them  that  weep. 
Rom.  xii.  15. 

Every  man  is  to  be  considered  in  two  capacities,  the  pri- 
vate and  public;  as  designed  to  pursue  his  own  interest, 
and  likewise  to  contribute  to  the  good  of  others.  Who- 
ever will  consider,  may  see,  that  in  general  there  is  no 
contrariety  between  these;  but  that  from  the  original 
constitution  of  man,  and  the  circumstances  he  is  placed 
in,  they  perfectly  coincide,  and  mutually  carry  on  each 
other.  But,  amongst  the  great  variety  of  affections  or 
principles  of  action  in  our  nature,  some  in  their  primary 
intention  and  design  seem  to  belong  to  the  single  or 
private,  others  to  the  public  or  social  capacity.  The 
affections  required  in  the  text  are  of  the  latter  sort. 
When  we  rejoice  in  the  prosperity  of  others,  and  com- 
passionate their  distresses,  we,  as  it  were,  substitute  them 
for  ourselves,  their  interest  for  our  own;  and  have  the 
same  kind  of  pleasure  in  their  prosperity,  and  sorrow  in 
fheir  distress,  as  we  have  from  reflection  upon  our  own. 
Now  there  is  nothing  strange  or  unaccountable  in  our 
being  thus  carried  out,  and  affected  towards  the  interests 
of  others.  For,  if  there  be  any  appetite,  <)r  any  inward 
principle  besides  self-love;  why  may  there  not  be  an 
affection  to  the  good  of  our  fellow  creatures,  and  delight 
from  that  affection's  being  gratified,  and  uneasiness  from 
things  going  contrary  to  it?* 

*  There  being  manifestly  tliis  appearance  of  men's  substituting  others  for  them- 
selves, and  being  carried  out  and  aflecud  towards  them  as  towards  themselves  ;  some 
persons,  who  have  a  system  which  excludes  every  affection  of  this  sort,  have  taken  a 
pleasant  method  to  solve  it;  and  tell  you  it  is  not  another  you  are  at  all  concerned 
about,  but  your  seif  only,  when  you  feel  the  affection  called  compassion,  i.  e.  Here  i-i 
a  plain  matter  of  fact,  which  men  cannot  reconcile  witn  tiie  general  account  they 
think  fit  to  give  of  tilings:  they  therefore,  instead  of  that  manifest  fact,  substitute 
another,  which  is  reconcileable  10  their  own  scheme.  For  does  not  every  body  by 
compassion  mean  an  affection,  the  obje  ct  of  which  is  another  in  distress  ?  Instead  of 
this,  but  designing  to  have  it  mistaken  for  this,  they  speak  of  an  affection  or  passion., 
the  object  of  which  is  ourselves,  or  danger  to  ourselves.  Hobbes  defines  pity,  imagi- 
nation, or  fictio%  of  future  calaptity  to  ourselves,  proceeding  from  the  sense  (he  means 


»«.  V.] 


UPON  COMPASSION. 


65 


Of  these  two,  delight  in  the  prosperity  of  others,  and 
compassion  for  their  distresses,  the  last  is  felt  much  more 
generally  than  the  former.  Though  men  do  not  univer- 
sally rejoice  with  all  whom  they  sse  rejoice,  yet,  acci- 

Bight  or  knowledge)  of  another  man's  calamity.  Thus  fear  and  compassion  would  be 
the  same  idea,  and  a  fearful  and  a  compassionate  man  the  same  character,  which 
every  mail  immediately  sees  are  totally  different.  Further,  to  those  who  give  any 
scope  to  i heir  affections,  there  is  no  perception  or  inward  feeling  more  universal  than 
this:  that  one  who  has  been  merciful  ami  compassionate  throughout  the  course  of  his 
behaviour,  should  himself  be  treated  with  kindness,  if  he  happens  to  fall  into  circum- 
stances of  distress.  Is  fear,  then,  or  cowardice,  so  great  a  recommendation  to  the 
favour  of  the  bulk  of  mankind  ?  Or  is  it  not  plain,  that  mere  fearlessness  (and  there- 
fore not  the  contrary)  is  one  of  the  most  popular  qualifications  ?  This  shows  that 
mankind  are  not  affected  towards  compassion  as  fear,  but  as  somewhat  totally 
different. 

Nothing  would  more  expose  such  accounts  as  these  of  the  affections  which  are 
favourable  and  friendly  to  our  fellow  creatures,  than  to  substitute  the  definitions, 
which  this  author,  and  others  who  follow  his  steps,  give  of  such  affections,  instead  of 
the  words  by  which  they  are  commonly  expressed.  Hobbes,  after  having  laid  down, 
that  pity  or  compassion  is  only  fear  for  ourselves,  goes  on  to  explain  the  reason  why 
we  pity  our  friends  in  distress  more  than  others.  Now  substitute  the  definition  instead 
of  the  word  pity  in  this  place,  and  the  inquiry  will  be,  why  wo  fear  our  friends,  &c, 
which  words  (since  he  really  does  not  mean  why  we  are  afraid  of  them)  make  no 
question  or  sentence  at  all.  So  that  common  language,  the  words  to  compassionate, 
to  pity,  cannot  be  accommodated  to  his  account  of  compassion.  The  very  joining  of 
the  words  to  pity  our  friends,  is  a  direct  contradiction  to  his  definition  of  pity  :  because 
those  words,  so  joined,  necessarily  express  that  our  friends  are  the  objects  of  the 
passion:  whereas  his  definition  of  it  asserts,  that  ourselves  (or  danger  to  ourselves) 
are  the  only  objects  of  it.  He  might  indeed  have  avoided  this  absurdity,  by  plainly 
saying  what  he  is  going  to  account  .or  ;  namely,  why  the  sight  of  the  innocent,  or  of 
our  friends  in  distress,  raises  greater  fear  tor  ourselves  than  the  sight  of  other  persons- 
in  distress.  But  had  he  put  the  tiling  thus  plainly,  the  fact  itself  would  have  been, 
doubted  ;  that  the  sight  of  our  friends  in  distress  raises  in  us  greater  fear  for  our- 
selves, than  the  sight  of  others  in  distress.  And  in  the  next  place  it  would  imme- 
diately have  occurred  to  every  one,  iliat  the  fact  now  mentioned,  which  at  least  is 
doubtful,  whether  true  or  faNe,  was  not.  the  same  with  this  fact,  which  nobody  ever 
doubted,  that  the  sight  of  our  friends  in  distress  raises  in  us  greater  compassion  than 
tin  sight  of  others  m  distress  every  one,  1  say,  would  have  seen  that  these  are  not 
the  same,  but  two  different  inquiries  ;  and  consequently,  that  fear  and  compassion  are 
not  the  same.  Suppose  a  person  to  be  in  real  danger,  and  by  some  means  or  other 
to  have  forgot  it;  any  trifling  accident,  any  sound  might  alarm  him,  recall  the 
danger  to  his  remembrance,  and  renew  his  fear:  but  it  is  almost  too  grossly  ridicu- 
lous (though  it  is  to  show  an  absurdity)  to  speak  of  that  sound  or  accident  as  an  object 
of  compassion;  and.  yet,  according  to  Mr  Hobbes,  our  greatest  friend  in  distress  is 
no  more  to  us,  no  more  the  object  of  compassion,  or  of  any  affection  in  our  heart : 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other  raises  any  emotion  in  our  mind,  but  only  the  thoughts 
of  our  liableness  to  calamity,  and  the  fear  of  it ;  and  both  equally  do  this.  It  is  fit 
such  sort  of  accounts  of  human  nature  should  be  shown  to  be  what  they  really  are, 
because  there  is  raised  upon  them  a  general  scheme  which  undermines  the  whole 
foundation  of  common  justice  and  honesty.    See  Hobbes  of  Human  Nature,  C.  9.  §  10. 

t  here  are  often  three  distinct  perceptions  or  inward  feelings  upon  sight  of  persons 
in  distress:  real  sorrow  and  concern  tor  the  misery  of  our  fellow  creatures ;  soinr 
degree  of  satisfaction  from  a  consciousness  of  our  freedom  from  that  misery  ;  and  as 
the  mind  passes  on  from  one  thing  to  another,  it  is  not  unnatural  from  such  an  occa- 
sion to  reflect  upon  our  liableness  to  the  same  or  other  calamities.  The  two  last 
frequently  accompany  the  first,  but  it  is  the  first  only  which  is  proper  compassion,  of 
which  the  distressed  are  objects,  and  which  directly  curries  us  with  calmness  and- 
thought  to  their  assistance.  Any  one  of  these,  from  various  and  complicated  reasons 
may  in  particular  cases  prevail  over  the  other  two;  anil  there  are,  I  suppose,  in- 
stances, w. ere  the  bare  sight  of  distress,  without  our  leeling  any  compassion  for  it, 

E 


£6  UPON  COMPASSION.  J9«. 

dental  obstacles  removed,  they  naturall)  compassionate 

all,  in  some  degree,  whom  they  see  in  distress;  so  far  as 
they  have  any  real  perception  or  sense  of  that  distress: 
insomuch  that  words  expressing  this  latter,  pity,  com- 
passion,  frequently  occur;  whereas  we  have  scarce  any 
single  one,  by  which  the  former  is  distinctly  expressed. 
Congratulation  indeed  answers  condolence:  but  both 
these  words  are  intended  to  signify  certain  forms  ot 
civility,  rather  than  any  inward  sensation  or  feeling. 
This  difference  or  inequality  is  so  remarkable,  that  we 
plainly  consider  compassion  as  itself  an  original,  distinct, 
particular  affection  in  human  nature;  whereas  to  rejoice 
in  the  good  of  others,  is  only  a  consequence  of  the 
general  affection  of  love  and  good- will  to  them.  The 
reason  and  account  of  which  matter  is  this:  when  a 
man  has  obtained  any  particular  advantage  or  felicity, 
his  end  is  gained;  and  he  does  not  in  that  particular 
want  the  assistance  of  another:  there  was  therefore  no 
need  of  a  distinct  affection  towards  that  felicity  of  another 
already  obtained:  neither  would  such  affection  directly 
carry  him  on  to  do  good  to  that  person:  whereas  men 
in  distress  want  assistance;  and  compassion  leads  us 
directly  to  assist  them.  The  object  of  the  former  is  the 
present  felicity  of  another;  the  object  of  the  latter  is  the 
present  misery  of  another.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  the 
latter  wants  a  particular  affection  for  its  relief,  and  that 
the  former  does  not  want  one,  because  it  does  not  want 
assistance.  And  upon  supposition  of  a  distinct  affection 
in  both  cases,  the  one  must  rest  in  the  exercise  of  itself, 
having  nothing  further  to  gain;  the  other  does  not  rest 
in  itself,  but  carries  us  on  to  assist,  the  distressed. 

But,  supposing  these  affjctions  natural  to  the  mind, 

may  be  the  occasion  of  either  or  both  of  the  two  latter  perceptions.  One  might  add 
that  il  there  be  really  any  such  thing  as  the  fiction  or  imagination  of  danger  to  our 
selves  from  the  sight  of  the  misery  of  others,  which  Hobbes  speaks  of,  and  which  he 
has  absurdly  mistaken  for  the  whole  of  compassion  ;  if  there  be  any  thing  of  this  sort 
common  (o  mankind,  distinct  from  the  reflection  of  reason,  it  would  be  a  most 
•remarkable  instance  of  what  was  furthest  from  the  thoughts,  namely,  of  a  mutual 
sympathy  between  each  particular  of  the  species,  a  fellow  feeling  common  to  man- 
kind. It  would  not  indeed  be  an  example  of  our  substituting  others  for  ourselves, 
but  it  would  be  an  example  of  substituting  ourselves  for  others.  And  as  it  would 
not  be  an  instance  of  benevolence,  so  neither  would  it  be  an  instance  of  self-love  : 
for  this  phantom  of  danger  to  ourselves,  naturally  rising  to  view  upon  sight  of  the 
distresses  of  others  would  be  no  more  an  instance  of  love  to  ourselves,  than  the  pais 
of  hunger  is. 


g^n.  V.]  UFCN  COMPASSION.  67 

particularly  the  last;  "  Has  not  each  man  troubles  enough 
of  his  own?  must  he  indulge  an  affection  which  appro- 
priates to  himself  those  of  others?  which  leads  him  to 
contract  the  least  desirable  of  all  friendships,  friendships 
with  the  unfortunate?  Must  we  invert  the  known  rule  of 
prudence,  and  choose  to  associate  ourselves  with  the  dis- 
tressed? or,  allowing  that  we  ought,  so  far  as  it  is  in  our 
power  to  relieve  them,  yet  is  it  not  better  to  do  this  from 
reason  and  duty?  Does  not  passion  and  affection  of 
every  kind  perpetually  mislead  us?  Nay,  is  not  passion 
and  affection  itself  a  weakness,  and  what  a  perfect  being 
must  be  entirely  free  from?"  Perhaps  so:  but  it  is 
mankind  I  am  speaking  of;  imperfect  creatures,  and 
who  naturally,  and,  from  the  condition  we  are  placed  in, 
necessarily  depend  upon  each  other.  With  respect  to 
such  creatures,  it  would  be  found  of  as  bad  consequence 
to  eradicate  all  natural  affections,  as  to  be  entirely  go- 
verned by  them.  This  would  almost  sink  us  to  the 
condition  of  brutes;  and  that  would  leave  us  without  a 
sufficient  principle  of  action.  Reason  alone,  whatever 
any  one  may  wish,  is  not  in  reality  a  sufficient  motive 
of  virtue  in  such  a  creature  as  man ;  but  this  reason  joined 
with  those  affections  which  God  has  impressed  upon  his 
heart :  and  when  these  are  allowed  scope  to  exercise 
themselves,  but  under  strict  government  and  direction  of 
reason ;  then  it  is  we  act  suitably  to  our  nature,  and  to 
the  circumstances  God  has  placed  us  in.  Neither  is 
affection  itself  at  all  a  weakness;  nor  does-it  argue  defect, 
any  otherwise  than  as  our  senses  and  appetites  do;  they 
belong  to  our  condition  of  nature,  and  are  what  we  can- 
not do  without.  God  Almighty  is,  to  be  sure,  unmoved 
by  passion  or  appetite,  unchanged  by  affection:  but  then 
it  is  to  be  added,  that  he  neither  sees,  nor  hears,  nor 
perceives  things  by  any  senses  like  ours ;  but  in  a  man- 
ner infinitely  more  perfect.  Now,  as  it  is  an  absurdity 
almost  too  gross  to  be  mentioned,  for  a  man  to  endea 
vour  to  get  rid  of  his  senses,  because  the  Supreme  Being 
discerns  things  more  perfectly  without  them ;  it  is  a  real, 
though  not  so  obvious  an  absurdity,  to  endeavour  to 
eradicate  the  passions  he  has  given  us,  because  he  is 
without  them.    For,  since  our  passions  are  as  really 

E  2 


08  UPON  COMPASSION.  [8m.  V. 

&  part  of  our  constitution  as  our  senses;  since  the  former 
as  really  belong  to  our  condition  of  nature  as  the 
latter  to  get  rid  of  either  is  equally  a  violation  of,  and 
breaking  in  upon,  that  nature  and  constitution  he  has 
given  us.  Both  our  senses  and  our  passions  are  a  sup- 
ply to  the  imperfection  of  our  nature:  thus  they  show- 
that  we  are  such  sort  of  creatures,  as  to  stand  in  need 
of  those  helps  which  higher  orders  of  creatures  do  not. 
But  it  is  not  the  supply,  but  the  deficiency;  as  it  is  not  a 
remedy,  but  a  disease,  which  is  the  imperfection.  How- 
ever, our  appetites,  passions,  senses,  no  way  imply 
dist  ase:  nor  indeed  do  they  imply  deficiency  or  imperfec- 
tion of  any  sort;  but  only  this,  that  the  constitution  of 
nature,  according  to  wrhich  God  has  made  us,  is  such  as 
to  require  them.  And  it  is  far  from  being  true,  that  a 
wise  man  must  entirely  suppress  compassion,  and  all 
fellow  feeling  for  others,  as  a  weakness;  and  trust  to 
reason  alone  to  teach  and  enforce  upon  him  the  practice 
of  the  several  charities  we  owe  to  our  kind;  that,  on  the 
contrary,  even  the  bare  exercise  of  such  affections  would 
itself  be  for  the  good  and  happiness  of  the  world ;  and 
the  imperfection  of  the  higher  principles  of  reason  and 
religion  in  man,  the  little  influence  they  have  upon  our 
practice,  and  the  strength  and  prevalency  of  contrary 
ones,  plainly  require  these  affections  to  be  a  restraint 
upon  these  latter,  and  a  supply  to  the  deficiencies  of  the 
former. 

First,  The  very  exercise  itself  of  these  affections  in  a 
just  and  reasonable  manner  and  degree,  would  upon  the 
whole  increase  the  satisfactions,  and  lessen  the  miseries 
of  life. 

It  is  the  tendency  and  business  of  virtue  and  religion 
to  procure,  as  much  as  may  be,  universal  good-will,  trust, 
and  friendship  amongst  mankind.  If  this  could  be 
brought  to  obtain;  and  each  man  enjoyed  the  happiness 
of  others,  as  every  one  does  that  of  a  friend;  and  looked 
upon  the  success  and  prosperity  of  his  neighbour,  as 
every  one  does  upon  that  of  his  children  and  family ;  it 
is  too  manifest  to  be  insisted  upon,  how  much  the  enjoy- 
ments of  life  would  be  increased.  There  would  be  so 
much  happiness  introduced  into  the  world,  without  anv 


Sss.  v.]  UPON  COMPASSION.  69 

deduction  or  inconvenience  from  it,  in  proportion  as  the 
precept  of  rejoicing  icith  those  who  rejoice  was  universally 
obeyed.  Our  Saviour  has  owned  this  good  affection  as 
belonging  to  our  nature,  in  the  parable  of  the  lost  sheep; 
and  does  not  think  it  to  the  disadvantage  of  a  perfect 
state,  to  represent  its  happiness  as  capable  of  increase, 
from  reflection  upon  that  of  others. 

But  since  in  such  a  creature  as  man,  compassion  or 
sorrow  for  the  distress  of  others  seems  so  far  necessarily 
connected  with  joy  in  their  prosperity,  as  that  whoever 
rejoices  in  one  must  unavoidably  compassionate  the 
other;  there  cannot  be  that  delight  or  satisfaction,  which 
appears  to  be  so  considerable,  without  the  inconven- 
iences, whatever  they  are,  of  compassion. 

However,  without  considering  this  connexion,  there 
is  no  doubt  but  that  more  good  than  evil,  more  delight 
than  sorrow,  arises  from  compassion  itself;  there  being 
so  many  things  which  balance  the  sorrow  of  it.  There 
is  first  the  relief  which  the  distressed  feel  from  this  affec- 
tion in  others  towards  them.  There  is  likewise  the  ad- 
ditional misery  which  they  would  feel  from  the  reflec- 
tion, that  no  one  commiserated  their  case.  It  is  indeed 
true,  that  any  disposition,  prevailing  beyond  a  certain 
degree,  becomes  somewhat  wrong ;  and  we  have  ways 
of  speaking,  which,  though  they  do  not  directly  express 
that  excess,  yet,  always  lead  our  thoughts  to  it,  and  give 
us  the  notion  of  it.  Thus,  when  mention  is  made  of  de- 
light in  being  pitied,  this  always  conveys  to  our  mind 
the  notion  of  somewhat  which  is  really  a  weakness:  the 
manner  of  speaking,  I  say,  implies  a  certain  weakness 
and  feebleness  of  mind,  which  is  and  ought  to  be  disap- 
proved. But  men  of  the  greatest  fortitude  would  in 
distress  feel  uneasiness,  from  knowing  that  no  person 
in  the  world  had  any  sort  of  compassion  or  real  concern 
for  them ;  and  in  some  cases,  especially  when  the  tem- 
per is  enfeebled  by  sickness,  or  any  long  and  great  dis- 
tress, doubtless,  would  feel  a  kind  of  relief  even  from  the 
helpless  good-will  and  ineffectual  assistances  of  those 
about  them.  Over  against  the  sorrow  of  compassion  is 
likewise  to  be  set  a  peculiar  calm  kind  of  satisfaction, 
which  accompanies  it,  unless  in  cases  where  the  distress 


70  UPON  COMPASSION.  fgM.  ▼ 

of  another  is  by  some  means  so  brought  home  to  our- 
selves, as  to  become  in  a  manner  our  own ;  or  when  from 
weakness  of  mind  the  affection  rises  too  high,  which 
ought  to  be  corrected.  This  tranquillity  or  calm  satis- 
faction proceeds  partly  from  consciousness  of  a  right  af- 
fection and  temper  of  mind,  and  partly  from  a  sense  of  our 
own  freedom  from  the  misery  we  compassionate.  This 
last  may  possibly  appear  to  some  at  first  sight  faulty  ; 
but  it  really  is  not  so.  It  is  the  same  with  that  positive 
enjoyment,  which  sudden  ease  from  pain  for  the  present 
affords,  arising  from  a  real  sense  of  misery,  joined  with 
a  sense  of  our  freedom  from  it;  which  in  all  cases  must 
afford  some  degree  of  satisfaction. 

To  these  things  must  be  added  the  observation,  which 
respects  both  the  affections  we  are  considering ;  that 
they  who  have  got  over  all  fellow  feeling  for  others,  have 
withal  contracted  a  certain  callousness  of  heart,  which 
renders  them  insensible  to  most  other  satisfactions,  bu£ 
those  of  the  grossest  kind. 

Secondly,  Without  the  exercise  of  these  affections, 
men  would  certainly  be  much  more  wanting  in  the  of- 
fices of  charity  they  owe  to  each  other,  and  likewise  ir.ore 
cruel  and  injurious,  than  they  are  at  present. 

The  private  interest  of  the  individual  would  not  be 
sufficiently  provided  for  by  reasonable  and  cool  self-love 
alone;  therefore  the  appetites  and  passions  are  placed 
within  as  a  guard  and  further  security,  without  which  it 
would  not  be  taken  due  care  of.  It  is  manifest  our  life 
would  be  neglected,  were  it  not  for  the  calls  of  hunger, 
and  thirst,  and  weariness;  notwithstanding  that  without 
them  reason  would  assure  us,  that  the  recruits  of  food 
and  sleep  are  the  necessary  means  of  our  preservation. 
It  is  therefore  absurd  to  imagine,  that  without  affection, 
the  same  reason  alone  would  be  more  effectual  to  en- 
gage us  to  perform  the  duties  we  owe  to  our  fellow 
creatures.  One  of  this  make  would  be  as  defective,  as 
much  wanting,  considered  with  respect  to  society,  as  one 
of  the  former  make  would  be  defective,  or  wanting, 
considered  as  an  individual,  or  in  his  private  capacity. 
Is  it  possible  any  can  in  earnest  think,  that  a  public  spirit, 
i.  e.  a  settled  reasonable  principle  of  benevolence  to 


?eb.  V.]  UPON  COMPASSION.  71 

mankind,  is  so  prevalent  and  strong  in  the  species,  as  that 
we  may  venture  to  throw  off  the  under  affections,  which 
are  its  assistants,  carry  it  forward  and  mark  out  particu- 
lar courses  for  it ;  family,  friends,  neighbourhood,  the 
distressed,  our  country?  The  common  joys  and  the 
common  sorrows,  which  belong  to  these  relations  and 
circumstances,  are  as  plainly  useful  to  society,  as  the 
pain  and  pleasure  belonging  to  hunger,  thirst,  and  weari- 
ness, are  of  service  to  the  individual.  In  defect  of  that 
higher  principle  of  reason,  compassion  is  often  the  only 
way  by  which  the  indigent  can  have  access  to  us  :  and 
therefore,  to  eradicate  this,  though  it  is  not  indeed  for- 
mally to  deny  them  that  assistance  which  is  their  due ; 
yet  it  is  to  cut  them  off  from  that  which  is  too  frequently 
their  only  way  of  obtaining  it.  And  as  for  those  who 
have  shut  up  this  door  against  the  complaints  of  the 
miserable,  and  conquered  this  affection  in  themselves ; 
even  these  persons  will  be  under  great  restraints  from 
the  same  affection  in  others.  Thus  a  man  who  has  him- 
self no  sense  of  injustice,  cruelty,  oppression,  will  be 
kept  from  running  the  utmost  lengths  of  wickedness,  by 
fear  of  that  detestation,  and  even  resentment  of  inhu- 
manity, in  many  particular  instances  of  it,  which  com- 
passion for  the  object  towards  whom  such  inhumanity 
is  exercised,  excites  in  the  bulk  of  mankind.  And  this 
is  frequently  the  chief  danger,  and  the  chief  restraint, 
which  tvrants  and  the  great  oppressors  of  the  world 
feel. 

In  general,  experience  will  show,  that  as  want  of 
natural  appetite  to  food  supposes  and  proceeds  from 
some  bodily  disease;  so  the  apathy  the  Stoics  talk  of,  as 
much  supposes,  or  is  accompanied  with,  somewhat  amiss 
in  the  moral  character,  in  that  which  is  the  health  of  the 
mind.  Those  who  formerly  aimed  at  this  upon  the  foot 
of  philosophy,  appear  to  have  had  better  success  in 
eradicating  the  affections  of  tenderness  and  compassion, 
than  they  had  with  the  passions  of  envy,  pride,  and  re- 
sentment: these  latter,  at  best,  were  but  concealed,  and 
that  imperfectly  too.  How  far  this  observation  may  be 
extended  to  such  as  endeavour  to  suppress  the  natural 
'mpulses  of  their  affections,  in  order  to  form  themselves 


72  UPON  COMPASSION.  fSn.  T. 

for  business  and  the  world,  I  shall  not  determine.  But 
there  does  not  appear  any  capacity  or  relation  to  be 
named,  in  which  men  ought  to  be  entirely  deaf  to  the 
calls  of  affection,  unless  the  judicial  one  is  to  be  ex- 
cepted. 

And  as  to  those  who  are  commonly  called  the  men  of 
pleasure,  it  is  manifest,  that  the  reason  they  set  up  for 
hardness  of  heart,  is  to  avoid  being  interrupted  in  their 
course,  by  the  ruin  and  misery  they  are  the  authors  of: 
neither  are  persons  of  this  character  always  the  most 
free  from  the  impotencies  of  envy  and  resentment. 
What  may  men  at  last  bring  themselves  to,  by  suppres- 
sing their  passions  and  affections  of  one  kind,  and  leav- 
ing those  of  the  other  in  their  full  strength?  Butsurelv 
it  might  be  expected  that  persons  who  make  pleasure 
their  study  and  their  business,  if  they  understood  what 
they  profess,  would  reflect,  how  many  of  the  entertain- 
ments of  life,  how  many  of  those  kind  of  amusements 
which  seem  peculiarly  to  belong  to  men  of  leisure  and 
education,  they  become  insensible  to  by  this  acquired 
hardness  of  heart. 

I  shall  close  these  reflections  with  barely  mentioning 
the  behaviour  of  that  divine  Person,  who  was  the  exam- 
ple of  all  perfection  in  human  nature,  as  represented  in 
the  Gospels  mourning,  and  even,  in  a  literal  sense, 
weeping  over  the  distresses  of  his  creatures. 

The  observation  already  made,  that,  of  the  two  affec- 
tions mentioned  in  the  text,  the  latter  exerts  itself  much 
more  than  the  former;  that,  from  the  original  constitu- 
tion of  human  nature,  we  much  more  generally  and 
sensibly  compassionate  the  distressed,  than  rejoice  with 
the  prosperous,  requires  to  be  particularly  considered. 
This  observation,  therefore,  with  the  reflections  which 
arise  out  of  it,  and  which  it  leads  our  thoughts  to,  shall 
be  the  subject  of  another  discourse. 

For  the  conclusion  of  this,  let  me  just  take  notice  of 
the  danger  of  over- great  refinements;  of  going  besides 
or  beyond  the  plain,  obvious,  first  appearances  of  things, 
upon  the  subject  of  morals  and  religion.  The  least  ob- 
servation will  show,  how  little  the  generality  of  men  are 
capable  of  speculations.    Therefore  morality  and  religion 


flaa  v.]  UPON  COMPASSION.  73 

must  be  somewhat  plain  and  easv  to  be  understood:  it 
must  appeal  to  what  we  call  plain  common  sense,  as 
distinguished  from  superior  capacity  and  improvement ; 
because  it  appeals  to  mankind.  Persons  of  superior 
capacity  and  improvement  have  often  fallen  into  errors, 
which  no  one  of  mere  common  understanding  could. 
Is  it  possible  that  one  of  this  latter  character  could  ever 
of  himself  have  thought,  that  there  was  absolutely  no 
such  thing  in  mankind  as  affection  to  the  good  of  others? 
Suppose  of  parents  to  their  children ;  or  that  what  he 
felt  upon  seeing  a  friend  in  distress  was  only  fear  for  him- 
self ;  or,  upon  supposition  of  the  affections  of  kindness 
and  compassion,  that  it  was  the  business  of  wisdom  and 
virtue  to  set  him  about  extirpating  them  as  fast  as  he 
could?  And  yet  each  of  these  manifest  contradictions 
to  nature  has  been  laid  down  by  men  of  speculation,  as 
a  discovery  in  moral  philosophy;  which  they,  it  seems, 
have  found  out  through  all  the  specious  appearances  to 
the  contrary.  This  reflection  may  be  extended  further. 
The  extravagancies  of  enthusiasm  and  superstition  (if) 
not  at  all  lie  in  the  road  of  common  sense ;  and  there  - 
fore, so  far  as  they  are  original  mistakes,  must  be  owing 
to  going  beside  or  beyond  it.  Now,  since  inquiry  and 
examination  can  relate  only  to  things  so  obscure  and 
uncertain  as  to  stand  in  need  of  it,  and  to  persons  who 
are  capable  of  it ;  the  proper  advice  to  be  given  to  plain 
honest  men,  to  secure  them  from  the  extremes  both  of 
superstition  and  irreligion,  is  that  of  the  son  of  Sirach  : 
In  every  good  work  trust  thy  own  soul ;  for  this  is  the 
keeping  of  the  commandment.* 


*  Secies,  xhxH  13 


74 


UPON  COMPASSION. 


IM.  VL 


SERMON  VI. 

UPON  COMPASSION. 
PBEACUED  THE  FJRST  SUNDAY  IN  LENT. 

Rejoice  with  them  that  do  rejoice,  and  weep  with  them  that  weep. — 

Rom.  xii.  15. 

There  is  a  much  more  exact  correspondence  between 
the  natural  and  moral  world,  than  we  are  apt  to  take 
notice  of.  The  inward  frame  of  man  does  in  a  peculiar 
manner  answer  to  the  external  condition  and  circum- 
stances of  life,  in  which  he  is  placed.  This  is  a  particular 
instance  of  that  general  observation  of  the  son  of  Sirach: 
All  tilings  are  double  one  against  another,  and  God  hath 
made  nothing  imperfect*  The  several  passions  and  af- 
fections in  the  heart  of  man,  compared  with  the  circum- 
stances of  life  in  which  he  is  placed,  afford,  to  such  as 
will  attend  to  them,  as  certain  instances  of  final  causes, 
as  any  whatever,  which  are  more  commonly  alleged  for 
such:  since  those  affections  lead  him  to  a  certain  deter- 
minate course  of  action  suitable  to  those  circumstances, 
as  (for  instance)  compassion,  to  relieve  the  distressed. 
And  as  all  observations  of  final  causes,  drawn  from  the 
principles  of  action  in  the  heart  of  man,  compared  with 
the  condition  he  is  placed  in,  serve  all  the  good  uses 
which  instances  of  final  causes  in  the  material  world 
about  us  do;  and  both  these  are  equally  proofs  of  wisdom 
and  design  in  the  Author  of  nature:  so  the  former  serve 
to  further  good  purposes;  they  show  us  what  course  of 
life  we  are  made  for,  what  is  our  duty,  and  in  a  peculiar 
manner  enforce  upon  us  the  practice  of  it. 

Suppose  we  are  capable  of  happiness  and  of  misery  in 
degrees  equally  intense  and  extreme,  yet,  we  are  capable 
of  the  latter  for  a  much  longer  time,  beyond  all  com- 
parison. We  see  men  in  the  tortures  of  pain  for  hours, 
days,  and,  excepting  the  short  suspensions  of  sleep,  for 
months  together,  without  intermission;  to  which  no  en« 
joyments  of  life  do,  in  degree  and  continuance,  bear  any 

*  Ecclus.  xlii.  24. 


8EB.VI.]  UPON  COMPASSION.  75 

sort  of  proportion.  And  such  is  our  make  and  that  of 
the  world  about  us,  that  any  thing  may  become  the 
instrument  of  pain  and  sorrow  to  us.  Thus  almost  any 
one  man  is  capable  of  doing  mischief  to  any  other,  though 
he  may  not  be  capable  of  doing  him  good:  and  if  he  be 
capable  of  doing  him  some  good,  he  is  capable  of  doing 
him  more  evil.  And  it  is,  in  numberless  cases,  much 
more  in  our  power  to  lessen  the  miseries  of  others,  than 
to  promote  their  positive  happiness,  any  otherwise  than 
as  the  former  often  includes  the  latter;  ease  from  misery 
occasioning  for  some  time  the  greatest  positive  enjoy- 
ment. This  constitution  of  nature,  namely,  that  it  is  so 
much  more  in  our  power  to  occasion  and  likewise  to 
lessen  misery,  than  to  promote  positive  happiness,  plainly 
required  a  particular  affection,  to  hinder  us  from  abusing, 
and  to  incline  us  to  make  a  right  use  of  the  former 
powers,  i.  e.  the  powers  both  to  occasion  and  to  lessen 
misery;  over  and  above  what  was  necessary  to  induce 
us  to  make  a  right  use  of  the  latter  power,  that  of  pro- 
moting positive  happiness.  The  power  we  have  over 
the  misery  of  our  fellow  creatures,  to  occasion  or  lessen 
it,  being  a  more  important  trust  than  the  power  we  have 
of  promoting  their  positive  happiness;  the  former  re- 
quires and  has  a  further,  an  additional  security  and 
guard  against  its  being  violated,  beyond  and  over  and 
above  what  the  latter  has.  The  social  nature  of  man, 
and  general  good-will  to  his  species,  equally  prevent  him 
from  doing  evil,  incline  him  to  relieve  the  distressed,  and 
to  promote  the  positive  happiness  of  his  fellow  creatures: 
but  compassion  only  restrains  him  from  the  first,  and 
carries  him  to  the  second;  it  hath  nothing  to  do  with  the 
third. 

The  final  causes  then  of  compassion  are  to  prevent 
and  to  relieve  misery. 

As  to  the  former:  this  affection  may  plainly  be  a 
restraint  upon  resentment,  envy,  unreasonable  self-love; 
that  is,  upon  all  the  principles  from  which  men  do  evil 
to  one  another.  Let  us  instance  only  in  resentment. 
It  seldom  happens,  in  regulated  societies,  that  men  have 
an  enemy  so  entirely  in  their  power,  as  to  be  able  to 
satiate  their  resentment  with  safety.    But  if  we  were  to 


76  UPON  COMPASSION.  [S«a.  VL 

put  this  case,  it  is  plainly  supposable,  that  a  persoi  might 
bring  his  enemy  into  such  a  condition,  as  from  being  the 
object  of  anger  and  rage,  to  become  an  object  of  com- 
passion, even  to  himself,  though  the  most  malicious  man 
in  the  world:  and  in  this  case  compassion  would  stop 
him,  if  he  could  stop  with  safety,  from  pursuing  his  re- 
venge any  further.  But  since  nature  has  placed  within 
us  more  powerful  restraints  to  prevent  mischief,  and 
since  the  final  cause  of  compassion  is  much  more  to 
relieve  misery,  let  us  go  on  to  the  consideration  of  it  in 
this  view. 

As  this  world  was  not  intended  to  be  a  state  of  any 
great  satisfaction  or  high  enjoyment;  so  neither  was  it 
intended  to  be  a  mere  scene  of  unhappiness  and  sorrow. 
Mitigations  and  reliefs  are  provided  by  the  merciful 
Author  of  nature,  for  most  of  the  afflictions  in  human 
life.  There  is  kind  provision  made  even  against  our 
frailties ;  as  we  are  so  constituted,  that  time  abundantly 
abates  our  sorrows,  and  begets  in  us  that  resignment  of 
temper,  which  ought  to  have  been  produced  by  a  better 
cause  ;  a  due  sense  of  the  authority  of  God,  and  our  state 
of  dependence.  This  holds  in  respect  to  far  the  greatest 
part  of  the  evils  of  life  ;  I  suppose,  in  some  degi\e  as  to 
pain  and  sickness.  Now  this  part  of  the  constitution  or 
make  of  man,  considered  as  some  relief  to  misery,  and 
not  as  provision  for  positive  happiness,  is,  if  I  may  so 
speak,  an  instance  of  nature's  compassion  for  us:  and 
every  natural  remedy  or  relief  to  misery  may  be  con- 
sidered in  the  same  view. 

But  since  in  many  cases  it  is  very  much  in  our  power 
to  alleviate  the  miseries  of  each  other;  and  benevolence, 
though  natural  in  man  to  man,  yet  is  in  a  very  low  degree 
kept  down  by  interest  and  competitions;  and  men,  for 
the  most  part,  are  so  engaged  in  the  business  and 
pleasures  of  the  world,  as  to  overlook  and  turn  away 
from  objects  of  misery;  which  are  plainly  considered  as 
interruptions  to  them  in  their  way,  as  intruders  upon 
their  business,  their  gaiety  and  mirth;  compassion  is  an 
advocate  within  us  in  their  behalf,  to  gain  the  unhappy 
admittance  and  access,  to  make  their  case  attended  to 
If  it  sometimes  serves  a  contrary  purpose,  and  makes 


Shr.  V!.j  UPON  COMPASSION.  77 

men  industrious!}  turn  away  from  the  miserable,  these 
are  only  instances  of  abuse  and  perversion:  for  the  end, 
for  which  the  affection  was  given  us,  most  certainly  is  not 
to  make  us  avoid,  but  to  make  us  attend  to,  the  objects 
of  it.  And  if  men  would  only  resolve  to  allow  thus  much 
to  it;  let  it  bring  before  their  view,  the  view  of  their 
mind,  the  miseries  of  their  fellow  creatures;  let  it  gain 
for  them  that  their  case  be  considered;  I  am  persuaded 
it  would  not  fail  of  gaining  more,  and  that  very  few  real 
objects  of  charity  would  pass  unrelieved.  Pain  and 
sorrow  and  misery  have  a  right  to  our  assistance:  com- 
passion puts  us  in  mind  of  the  debt,  and  that  we  owe  it 
to  ourselves  as  well  as  to  the  distressed.  For,  to  en- 
deavour to  get  rid  of  the  sorrow  of  compassion  by  turning 
from  the  wretched,  when  yet  it  is  in  our  power  to  relieve 
them,  is  as  unnatural,  as  to  endeavour  to  get  rid  of  the 
pain  of  hunger  by  keeping  from  the  sight  of  food.  That 
we  can  do  one  with  greater  success  than  we  can  the 
other,  is  no  proof  that  one  is  less  a  violation  of  nature 
than  the  other.  Compassion  is  a  call,  a  demand  of  na- 
ture, to  relieve  the  unhappy;  as  hunger  is  a  natural  call 
for  food.  This  affection  plainly  gives  the  objects  of  it 
an  additional  claim  to  relief  and  mercy,  over  and  above 
what  our  fellow  creatures  in  common  have  to  our  good-will. 
Liberality  and  bounty  are  exceedingly  commendable;  and 
a  particular  distinction  in  such  a  world  as  this,  where  men 
set  themselves  to  contract  their  heart,  and  close  it  to  all 
interests  but  their  own.  It  is  by  no  means  to  be  opposed 
to  mercy,  but  always  accompanies  it:  the  distinction 
between  them  is  only,  that  the  former  leads  our  thoughts 
to  a  more  promiscuous  and  undistinguished  distribution 
of  favours ;  to  those  who  are  not,  as  well  as  those  who 
are  necessitous;  whereas  the  object  of  compassion  is 
misery.  But  in  the  comparison,  and  where  there  is  not 
a  possibility  cf  both,  mercy  is  to  have  the  preference: 
the  affection  of  compassion  manifestly  leads  us  to  this 
preference.  Thus,  to  relieve  the  indigent  and  distressed, 
to  single  out  the  unhappy,  from  whom  can  be  expected 
no  returns  either  of  present  entertainment  or  future  ser- 
vice, for  the  objects  of  our  favours;  to  esteem  a  man's 
being  friendless  as  a  recommendation;  dejection,  and 


78  UPON  COMPASSION.  [8m.  vi 

incapacity  of  struggling  through  the  world,  as  a  motive 
for  assisting  him;  in  a  word,  to  consider  these  circum- 
stances of  disadvantage,  which  are  usually  thought  a 
sufficient  reason  for  neglect  and  overlooking  a  person, 
as  a  motive  for  helping  him  forward:  this  is  the  course 
of  benevolence  which  compassion  marks  out  and 
directs  us  to:  this  is  that  humanity,  which  is  so  pe- 
culiarly becoming  our  nature  and  circumstances  in  this 
world. 

To  these  considerations,  drawn  from  the  nature  of 
man,  must  be  added  the  reason  of  the  thing  itself  we  are 
recommending,  which  accords  to  and  shows  the  same. 
For  since  it  is  so  much  more  in  our  power  to  lessen  the 
misery  of  our  fellow  creatures,  than  to  promote  their 
positive  happiness;  in  cases  where  there  is  an  inconsis- 
tency, we  shall  be  likely  to  do  much  more  good  by  setting 
ourselves  to  mitigate  the  former,  than  by  endeavouring 
to  promote  the  latter.  Let  the  competition  be  between 
the  poor  and  the  rich.  It  is  easy,  you  will  say,  to  see 
which  will  have  the  preference.  True :  but  the  question 
is,  which  ought  to  have  the  preference?  What  propor- 
tion is  there  between  the  happiness  produced  by  doing  a 
favour  to  the  indigent,  and  that  produced  by  doing  the 
same  favour  to  one  in  easy  circumstances?  It  is  mani- 
fest, that  the  addition  of  a  very  large  estate  to  one  who 
before  had  an  affluence,  will  in  many  instances  yield 
him  less  new  enjoyment  or  satisfaction,  than  an  ordinary 
charity  would  yield  to  a  necessitous  person.  So  that  it 
is  not  only  true,  that  our  nature,  i.  e.  the  voice  of  God 
within  us,  carries  us  to  the  exercise  of  charity  and  bene- 
volence in  the  way  of  compassion  or  mercy,  preferably 
to  any  other  way;  but  we  also  manifestly  discern  much 
more  good  done  by  the  former;  or,  if  you  will  allow  me 
the  expressions,  more  misery  annihilated,  and  happiness 
created.  If  charity  and  benevolence,  and  endeavouring  to 
do  good  to  our  fellow  creatures,  be  any  thing,  this  obser- 
vation deserves  to  be  most  seriously  considered  by  all 
who  have  to  bestow.  And  it  holds  with  great  exactness, 
when  applied  to  the  several  degrees  of  greater  and  less 
indigency  throughout  the  various  ranks  in  human  life : 
the  happiness  or  good  produced  not  being  in  proportion 


Skr,VI.<  upon  compassion.  79 

to  what  is  bestowed,  but  in  proportion  to  this  joined  with 
the  need  there  was  of  it. 

It  may  perhaps  be  expected,  that  upon  this  subject 
notice  should  be  taken  of  occasions,  circumstances,  and 
characters,  which  seem  at  once  to  call  forth  affections  of 
different  sorts.  Thus  vice  may  be  thought  the  object 
both  of  pity  and  indignation:  folly,  of  pity  and  of  laughter. 
How  far  this  is  strictly  true,  I  shall  not  inquire;  but  only 
observe  upon  the  appearance,  how  much  more  humane 
it  is  to  yield  and  give  scope  to  affections,  which  are  most 
directly  in  favour  of,  and  friendly  towards,  our  fellow 
creatures;  and  that  there  is  plainly  much  less  danger  of 
being  led  wrong  by  these,  than  by  the  other. 

But,  notwithstanding  all  that  has  been  said  in  recom- 
mendation of  compassion,  that  it  is  most  amiable,  most 
becoming  human  nature,  and  most  useful  to  the  world; 
yet  it  must  be  owned,  that  every  affection,  as  distinct 
from  a  principle  of  reason,  may  rise  too  high,  and  be 
beyond  its  just  proportion.  And  by  means  of  this  one 
carried  too  far,  a  man  throughout  his  life  is  subject  to 
much  more  uneasiness  than  belongs  to  his  share :  and  in 
particular  instances,  it  may  be  in  such  a  degree  as  to 
incapacitate  him  from  assisting  the  very  person  who  is 
the  object  of  it.  But  as  there  are  some  who  upon  prin- 
ciple set  up  for  suppressing  this  affection  itself  as  weak- 
ness, there  is  also  I  know  not  what  of  fashion  on  this 
side;  and,  by  some  means  or  other,  the  whole  world 
almost  is  run  into  the  extremes  of  insensibility  towards 
the  distresses  of  their  fellow  creatures:  so  that  general 
rules  and  exhortations  must  always  be  on  the  other  side. 

And  now  to  go  on  to  the  uses  we  should  make  of  the 
foregoing  reflections,  the  further  ones  they  lead  to,  and 
the  general  temper  they  have  a  tendency  to  beget  in  us. 
There  being  that  distinct  affection  implanted  in  the  na- 
ture of  man,  tending  to  lessen  the  miseries  of  life,  that 
particular  provision  made  for  abating  its  sorrows,  more 
than  for  increasing  its  positive  happiness,  as  before  ex- 
plained; this  may  suggest  to  us  what  should  be  our  gen- 
eral aim  respecting  ourselves,  in  our  passage  through  this, 
world:  namely,  to  endeavour  chiefly  to  escape  misery, 
keep  free  from  uneasiness,  pain,  and  sorrow,  or  to  get 


80  UPON  COMPASSION.  [Ser.  VI 

relief  and  mitigation  of  them ;  to  propose  to  ourselves 
peace  and  tranquillity  of  mind,  rather  than  pursue  after 
high  enjoyments.  This  is  what  the  constitution  of  nature 
before  explained  marks  out  as  the  course  we  should  fol- 
low, and  the  end  we  should  aim  at.  To  make  pleasure 
and  mirth  and  jollity  our  business,  and  be  constantly  hur- 
rying about  after  some  gay  amusement,  some  new  grati- 
fication of  sense  or  appetite,  to  those  who  will  consider  the 
nature  of  man  and  our  condition  in  this  world,  will  appear 
the  most  romantic  scheme  of  life  that  ever  entered  into 
thought.  And  yet  how  many  are  there  who  go  on  in 
this  course,  without  learning  better  from  the  daily,  the 
hourly  disappointments,  listlessness,  and  satiety,  which 
accompany  this  fashionable  method  of  wasting  away  their 
days ! 

The  subject  we  have  been  insisting  upon  would  lead 
us  into  the  same  kind  of  reflections,  by  a  different  con- 
nexion. The  miseries  of  life  brought  home  to  ourselves 
by  compassion,  viewed  through  this  affection  considered 
as  the  sense  by  which  they  are  perceived,  would  beget 
in  us  that  moderation,  humility,  and  soberness  of  mind, 
which  has  been  now  recommended ;  and  which  peculiarly 
belongs  to  a  season  of  recollection,  the  only  purpose  of 
which  is  to  bring  us  to  a  just  sense  of  things,  to  recover 
us  out  of  that  forgetfulness  of  ourselves,  and  our  true 
state,  which  it  is  manifest  far  the  greatest  part  of  men 
pass  their  whole  life  in.  Upon  this  account  Solomon 
says,  that  it  is  better  to  go  to  the  house  of  mourning,  than 
to  go  to  the  house  of  feasting ;  i.  e.  it  is  more  to  a  man's 
advantage  to  turn  his  eyes  towards  objects  of  distress,  to 
recall  sometimes  to  his  remembrance  the  occasions  of 
sorrow,  than  to  pass  all  his  days  in  thoughtless  mirth 
and  gaiety.  And  he  represents  the  wise  as  choosing  to 
frequent  the  former  of  these  places  ;  to  be  sure  not  for 
its  own  sake,  but  because  by  the  sadness  of  the  counte- 
nance the  heart  is  made  better.  Every  one  observes  how 
temperate  and  reasonable  men  are  when  humbled  and 
brought  low  by  afflictions,  in  comparison  of  what  they 
are  in  high  prosperity.  By  this  voluntary  resort  to  the 
house  of  mourning,  which  is  here  recommended,  we 
might  learn  all  those  useful  instructions  which  calamities 


s«  vt.;  UPON  COMPASSION.  81 

teach,  without  undergoing  them  ourselves;  and  grow 
wiser  and  better  at  a  more  easy  rate  than  men  com- 
monly do.  The  objects  themselves,  which  in  that  place 
of  sorrow  he  before  our  view,  naturally  give  us  a  seri- 
ousness and  attention,  check  that  wantonness  which  is 
the  growth  of  prosperity  and  ease,  and  lead  us  to  reflect 
upon  the  deficiencies  of  human  life  itself;  that  every  man, 
at  his  best  estate,  is  altogether  vanity.  This  would  correct 
the  florid  and  gaudy  prospects  and  expectations  which 
we  are  too  apt  to  indulge,  teach  us  to  lower  our  notions 
of  happiness  and  enjoyment,  bring  them  down  to  the 
reality  of  things,  to  what  is  attainable,  to  what  the  frailty 
of  our  condition  will  admit  of,  which,  for  any  continu- 
ance, is  only  tranquillity,  ease,  and  moderate  satisfac- 
tions Thus  we  might  at  once  become  proof  against  the 
temptations  with  which  the  whole  world  almost  is  carried 
away ;  since  it  is  plain,  that  not  only  what  is  called  a  life  of 
pleasure,  but  also  vicious  pursuits  in  general,  aim  at  some- 
what besides  and  beyond  these  moderate  satisfactions. 

And  as  to  that  obstinacy  and  wilfulness,  which  renders 
men  so  insensible  to  the  motives  of  religion;  this  right 
sense  of  ourselves  and  of  the  world  about  us  would  bend 
the  stubborn  mind,  soften  the  heart,  and  make  it  more 
apt  to  receive  impression:  and  this  is  the  proper  temper 
in  which  to  call  our  ways  to  remembrance,  to  review  and 
set  home  upon  ourselves  the  miscarriages  of  our  past 
life.  In  such  a  compliant  state  of  mind,  reason  and 
conscience  will  have  a  fair  hearing;  which  is  the  pre- 
paration for,  or  rather  the  beginning  of,  that  repentance, 
the  outward  show  of  which  we  all  put  on  at  this  season. 

Lastly,  The  various  miseries  of  life  which  lie  before  us 
wherever  we  turn  our  eyes,  the  frailty  of  this  mortal  state 
we  are  passing  through,  may  put  us  in  mind  that  the 
present  world  is  not  our  home;  that  we  are  merely 
strangers  and  travellers  in  it,  as  all  our  fathers  were. 
It  is  therefore  to  be  considered  as  a  foreign  country;  in 
which  our  poverty  and  wants,  and  the  insufficient  sup- 
plies of  them,  were  designed  to  turn  our  views  to  that 
higher  and  better  state  we  are  heirs  to:  a  state  where 
will  be  no  follies  to  be  overlooked,  no  miseries  to  be 
pitied,  no  wants  to  be  relieved;  where  the  affection  we 

F 


82  UPON  THE  CHARACTER  [Smb.  Til. 

have  been  now  treating  of  will  happily  be  lost,  as  there 
will  be  no  objects  to  exercise  it  upon:  for  God  shall  wipe 
away  all  tears  from  their  eyes,  and  there  shall  be  no  more 
death,  neither  sorrow,  nor  crying :  neither  shall  there  be 
any  more  vain  ;  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away. 


SERMON  VII. 

UPON  THE  CHARACTER  OF  BALAAM. 

PREACHED  THE  SECOND  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER. 

Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  he  like  his. 
Numb,  xxiii.  10. 

These  words,  taken  alone,  and  without  respect  to  him 
who  spoke  them,  lead  our  thoughts  immediately  to  the 
different  ends  of  good  and  bad  men.  For  though  the 
comparison  is  not  expressed,  yet  it  is  manifestly  implied; 
as  is  also  the  preference  of  one  of  these  characters  to 
the  other  in  that  last  circumstance,  death.  And,  since 
dying  the  death  of  the  righteous  or  of  the  wicked  neces- 
sarily implies  men's  being  righteous  or  wicked,  i.  e. 
having  lived  righteously  or  wickedly;  a  comparison  of 
them  in  their  lives  also  might  come  into  consideration, 
from  such  a  single  view  of  the  words  themselves.  But 
my  present  design  is  to  consider  them  with  a  particular 
reference  or  respect  to  him  who  spoke  them;  which 
reference,  if  you  please  to  attend,  you  will  see.  And  if 
what  shall  be  offered  to  your  consideration  at  this  time 
l>e  thought  a  discourse  upon  the  whole  history  of  this 
man,  rather  than  upon  the  particular  words  I  have  read, 
this  is  of  no  consequence ;  it  is  sufficient,  if  it  afford  re  • 
flection  of  use  and  service  to  ourselves. 

But,  in  order  to  avoid  cavils  respecting  this  remarkal  :i 
relation  in  Scripture,  either  that  part  of  it  which  you 
have  heard  in  the  first  lesson  for  the  day,  or  any  others ; 
let  me  just  observe,  that  as  this  is  not  a  place  for  an  - 
swering them,  so  they  no  way  affect  the  following  dis- 
course; since  the  character  there  given  is  plainly  a  real 
one  in  life,  and  such  as  there  are  parallels  to. 


Sin.  VII.]  OF  BALAAM.  83 

The  occasion  of  Balaam's  coming  out  of  his  own 

country  into  the  land  of  Moab,  where  he  pronounced 
this  solemn  prayer  or  wish,  he  himself  relates  in  the 
first  parable  or  prophetic  speech,  of  which  it  is  the  con- 
clusion. In  which  is  a  custom  referred  to,  proper  to  be 
taken  notice  of:  that  of  devoting  enemies  to  destruction, 
before  the  entrance  upon  a  war  with  them.  This  custom 
appears  to  have  prevailed  over  a  great  part  of  the  world ; 
for  we  find  it  amongst  the  most  distant  nations.  The 
Romans  had  public  officers,  to  whom  it  belonged  as  a 
stated  part  of  their  office.  But  there  was  somewhat 
more  particular  in  the  case  now  before  us;  Balaam 
being  looked  upon  as  an  extraordinary  person,  whose 
blessing  or  curse  was  thought  to  be  always  effectual. 

In  order  to  engage  the  reader's  attention  to  this  pas- 
sage, the  sacred  historian  has  enumerated  the  preparatory 
circumstances,  which  are  these.  Balaam  requires  the 
king  of  Moab  to  build  him  seven  altars,  and  to  prepare 
him  the  same  number  of  oxen  and  of  rams.  The  sacri- 
fice being  over,  he  retires  alone  to  a  solitude  sacred  to 
these  occasions,  there  to  wait  the  divine  inspiration  or 
answer,  for  which  the  foregoing  rites  were  the  prepara- 
tion. And  God  met  Balaam,  and  put  a  word  in  his 
mouth;*  upon  receiving  which,  he  returns  back  to  the 
altars,  where  was  the  king,  who  had  all  this  while  at- 
tended the  sacrifice,  as  appointed;  he  and  all  the  princes 
of  Moab  standing,  big  with  expectation  of  the  prophet's 
reply.  And  he  took  up  his  parable,  and  said,  Balak  the 
king  of  Moab  hath  brought  me  from  Aram,  out  of  the 
mountains  of  the  east,  saying,  Come,  curse  me  Jacob,  and 
come,  defy  Israel.  How  shall  I  curse,  whom  God  hath  not 
cursed  ?  Or  Iww  shall  I  defy,  whom  the  Lord  hath  not 
defied  ?  For  from  the  top  of  the  rocks  I  see  him,  and  from 
the  hills  I  behold  him  :  lo,  the  people  shall  dwell  alone,  and 
shall  not  be  reckoned  among  the  nations.  Who  can  count 
the  dust  of  Jacob,  and  the  number  of  the  fourth  part  of 
Israel?  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my 
last  end  be  like  his  A 

It  is  necessary,  as  you  will  see  in  the  progress  of  this 
discourse,  particularly  to  observe  what  he  understood 

*  Ver.  4,  5.  t  Ver.  6 

F2 


84  UPON"  THE  CHARACTER  [8».  VII. 

by  righteous.  And  he  himself  is  introduced  in  the 
book  of  Micah*  explaining  it;  if  by  righteous  is  meant 
good,  as  to  be  sure  it  is.  0  my  people,  remember  now 
what  Baluk  king  of  Moab  consulted,  and  what  Balaam 
the  son  of  Beor  answered  him  from  Shittim  unto  Gilgal. 
From  the  mention  of  Shittim,  it  is  manifest,  that  it  is 
this  very  story  which  is  here  referred  to,  though  another 
part  of  it,  the  account  of  which  is  not  now  extant;  as 
there  are  many  quotations  in  Scripture  out  of  books 
which  are  not  come  down  to  us.  Remember  what  Balaam 
answered,  that  ye  may  know  the  righteousness  of  the  Lord ; 
i.  e.  the  righteousness  which  God  will  accept.  Balak 
demands,  Wherewith  shall  I  come  before  the  Lord,  and 
bow  myself  before  the  high  God/  'Shall  I  come  before  him 
with  burnt -offerings,  with  calves  of  a  year  old?  Will  the 
Lord  be  pleased  with  thousands  of  rams,  or  with  ten  thou- 
sands of  rivers  of  oil  ?  Shall  I  give  my  first-born  for  my 
transgression,  the  fruit  of  my  body  for  the  sin  of  my  soul  f 
Balaam  answers  him,  He  hath  showed  thee,  0  man,  what 
is  good :  and  what  doth  the  Lord  require  of  thee,  but  to  do 
justly,  and  to  love  mercy,  and  to  walk  humbly  with  tin/ 
God?  Here  is  a  good  man  expressly  characterized,  as 
distinct  from  a  dishonest  and  a  superstitious  man.  No 
words  can  more  strongly  exclude  dishonesty  and  false- 
ness of  heart,  than  doing  justice,  and  loving  mercy:  and 
both  these,  as  well  as  walking  humbly  with  God,  are  put 
in  opposition  to  those  ceremonial  methods  of  recom- 
mendation, which  Balak  hoped  might  have  served  the 
turn.  From  hence  appears  what  he  meant  by  the 
righteous  whose  death  he  desires  to  die. 

Whether  it  was  his  own  character  shall  now  be  in- 
quired:  and  in  order  to  determine  it,  we  must  take  a 
view  of  his  whole  behaviour  upon  this  occasion.  When 
the  elders  of  Moab  came  to  him,  though  he  appears  to 
have  been  much  allured  with  the  rewards  offered,  yet  he 
had  such  regard  to  the  authority  of  God,  as  to  keep  the 
messengers  in  suspense  until  he  had  consulted  his  will. 
And  God  said  to  him,  Thou  shalt  not  go  with  them,  thou 
shalt  not  curse  the  people,  for  they  are  blessed.i  Upon 
this  he  dismisses  the  ambassadors,  with  an  absolute  re- 

*  Micah  vi.  f  Cliap.  sxli.  12. 


gjffl.  VII.]  OF  BALAAM.  85 

fusal  of  accompanying  them  back  to  their  king.  Thus 
far  his  regards  to  duty  prevailed,  neither  does  there  any 
thing  appear  as  yet  amiss  in  his  conduct.  His  answer 
being  reported  to  the  king  of  Moab,  a  more  honourable 
embassy  is  immediately  despatched,  and  greater  rewards 
proposed.  Then  the  iniquity  of  his  heart  began  to  dis- 
close itself.  A  thorough  honest  man  would  without 
hesitation  have  repeated  his  former  answer,  that  he  could 
not  be  guilty  of  so  infamous  a  prostitution  of  the  sacred 
character  with  which  he  was  invested,  as  in  the  name  of 
a  prophet  to  curse  those  whom  he  knew  to  be  blessed. 
But  instead  of  this,  which  was  the  only  honest  part  in 
these  circumstances  that  lay  before  him,  he  desires  the 
princes  of  Moab  to  tarry  that  night  with  him  also  ;  and  for 
the  sake  of  the  reward  deliberates,  whether  by  some 
means  or  other  he  might  not  be  able  to  obtain  leave  to 
curse  Israel ;  to  do  that,  which  had  been  before  revealed 
to  him  to  be  contrary  to  the  will  of  God,  which  yet  he 
resolves  not  to  do  without  that  permission.  Upon 
which,  as  when  this  nation  afterward  rejected  God  from 
reigning  over  them,  he  gave  them  a  king  in  his  anger  ; 
in  the  same  way,  as  appears  from  other  parts  of  the  nar- 
ration, he  gives  Balaam  the  permission  he  desired :  for 
this  is  the  most  natural  sense  of  the  words.  Arriving 
in  the  territories  of  Moab,  and  being  received  with  par- 
ticular distinction  by  the  king,  and  he  repeating  in  person 
the  promise  of  the  rewards  he  had  before  made  to  him 
by  his  ambassadors :  he  seeks,  the  text  says,  by  sacrifices 
and  enchantments  (what  these  were  is  not  to  our  purpose), 
to  obtain  leave  of  God  to  curse  the  people;  keeping  still 
his  resolution,  not  to  do  it  without  that  permission: 
which  not  being  able  to  obtain,  he  had  such  regard  to 
the  command  of  God,  as  to  keep  this  resolution  to  the 
last.  The  supposition  of  his  being  under  a  supernatural 
restraint  is  a  mere  fiction  of  Philo:  he  is  plainly  repre- 
sented to  be  under  no  other  force  or  restraint,  than  the 
fear  of  God.  However,  he  goes  on  persevering  in  that 
endeavour,  after  he  had  declared,  that  God  had  not  be- 
held  iniquity  in  Jacob,  neither  had  he  seen  perverseness  in 
Israel;*  i.  e.  they  were  a  people  of  virtue  and  piety,  so 

*  Vcr.  21. 


86  UPON  THE  CHARACTER  (Ser.  Yll. 

far  as  not  to  have  drawn  down,  by  their  iniquity,  that 
curse  which  he  was  soliciting  leave  to  pronounce  upon 
them.  So  that  the  state  of  Balaam's  mind  was  this:  he 
wanted  to  do  what  he  knew  to  be  very  wicked,  and  con- 
trary to  the  express  command  of  God;  he  had  inward 
checks  and  restraints,  which  he  could  not  entirely  get 
over;  he  therefore  casts  about  for  ways  to  reconcile  this 
wickedness  with  his  duty.  How  great  a  paradox  soever 
this  may  appear,  as  it  is  indeed  a  contradiction  in  terms, 
it  is  the  very  account  which  the  scripture  gives  us  of  him. 

But  there  is  a  more  surprising  piece  of  iniquity  yet  be- 
hind. Not  daring  in  his  religious  character,  as  a  prophet, 
to  assist  the  king  of  Moab,  he  considers  whether  there 
might  not  be  found  some  other  means  of  assisting  him 
against  that  very  people,  whom  he  himself  by  the  fear  of 
God  was  restrained  from  cursing  in  words.  One  would 
not  think  it  possible,  that  the  weakness,  even  of  religious 
self-deceit  in  its  utmost  excess,  could  have  so  poor  a 
distinction,  so  fond  an  evasion,  to  serve  itself  of.  But 
so  it  was:  and  he  could  think  of  no  other  method,  than 
to  betray  the  children  of  Israel  to  provoke  his  wrath, 
who  was  their  only  strength  and  defence.  The  tempta- 
tion which  he  pitched  upon,  was  that  concerning  which 
Solomon  afterward  observed,  that  it  had  cast  down  many 
wounded;  yea,  many  strong  men  had  been  slain  by  it:  and 
of  which  he  himself  was  a  sad  example,  when  his  wives 
turned  away  his  heart  after  other  gods.  This  succeeded: 
the  people  sin  against  God;  and  thus  the  prophet's 
counsel  brought  on  that  destruction,  which  he  could  by 
no  means  be  prevailed  upon  to  assist  with  the  religious 
ceremony  of  execration,  which  the  king  of  Moab  thought 
would  itself  have  effected  it.  Their  crime  and  punish- 
ment are  related  in  Deuteronomy,*  and  Numbers. t  And 
from  the  relation  repeated  in  Numbers, X  it  appears,  that 
Balaam  was  the  contriver  of  the  whole  matter.  It  is 
also  ascribed  to  him  in  the  Revelation,$  where  he  is  said 
to  have  taught  Balak  to  cast  a  stumbling-block  before  the 
children  of  Israel. 

This  was  the  man,  this  Balaam,  I  say,  was  the  man 
who  desired  to  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  that  hi? 

*  Chap.  iv.  Chap,  xxv  %  Cliap.  xxxi.         $  Chap.  ii. 


gut.  vii.t  OF  BALAAM.  87 

last  end  mi^kt  be  like  his:  and  this  was  the  state  of  his 
mind,  when  he  pronounced  these  words. 

So  that  the  object  we  have  now  before  us  is  the  most 
astonishing  in  the  world:  a  very  wicked  man,  under  a 
deep  sense  of  God  and  religion,  persisting  still  in  hia 
wickedness,  and  preferring  the  wages  of  unrighteousness, 
even  when  he  had  before  him  a  lively  view  of  death,  and 
that  approaching  period  of  his  days,  which  should  deprive 
him  of  all  those  advantages  for  which  he  was  prostitut- 
ing himself;  and  likewise  a  prospect,  whether  certain  or 
uncertain,  of  a  future  state  of  retribution  :  all  this  joined 
with  an  explicit  ardent  wish,  that,  when  he  was  to  leave 
this  world,  he  might  be  in  the  condition  of  a  righteous 
man.  Good  God,  what  inconsistency,  what  perplexity 
is  here!  "With  what  different  views  of  things,  with  what 
contradictory  principles  of  action,  must  such  a  mind  be 
torn  and  distracted!  It  was  not  unthinking  carelessness, 
by  which  he  ran  on  headlong  in  vice  and  folly,  without 
ever  making  a  stand  to  ask  himself  what  he  was  doing: 
no;  he  acted  upon  the  cool  motives  of  interest  and  ad- 
vantage. Neither  was  he  totally  hard  and  callous  to 
impressions  of  religion,  what  we  call  abandoned;  for  he 
absolutely  denied  to  curse  Israel.  When  reason  assumes 
her  place,  when  convinced  of  his  duty,  when  he  owns 
and  feels,  and  is  actually  under  the  influence  of  the  divine 
authority;  whilst  he  is  carrying  on  his  views  to  the  grave, 
the  end  of  all  temporal  greatness;  under  this  sense  of 
things,  with  the  better  character  and  more  desirable  state 
present — full  before  him — in  his  thoughts,  in  his  wishes, 
voluntarily  to  choose  the  worse — what  fatality  is  here! 
Or  how  otherwise  can  such  a  character  be  explained? 
And  yet  strange  as  it  may  appear,  it  is  not  altogether  an 
uncommon  one:  nay,  with  some  small  alterations,  and 
put  a  little  lower,  it  is  applicable  to  a  very  considerable 
part  of  the  world.  For  if  the  reasonable  choice  be  seen 
and  acknowledged,  and  yet  men  make  the  unreasonable 
one,  is  not  this  the  same  contradiction;  that  very  incon- 
sistency, which  appeared  so  unaccountable P 

To  give  some  little  opening  to  such  characters  and 
behaviour,  it  is  to  be  observed  in  general,  that  there  ia 
no  account  to  be  given  in  the  way  of  reason,  of  men's  so- 


88  UPON  THE  CHARACTER  [8sa.  Vll 

strong  attachments  to  the  present  world:  our  hopes  and 
fears  and  pursuits  are  in  degrees  beyond  all  proportion 
to  the  known  value  of  the  things  they  respect.  This 
may  be  said  without  taking  into  consideration  religion 
and  a  future  state;  and  when  these  are  considered,  the 
disproportion  is  infinitely  heightened.  Now  when  men 
go  against  their  reason,  and  contradict  a  more  important 
interest  at  a  distance,  for  one  nearer,  though  of  less  con- 
sideration ;  if  this  be  the  whole  of  the  case,  all  that  can 
be  said  is,  that  strong  passions,  some  kind  of  brute  force 
within,  prevails  over  the  principle  of  rationality.  How- 
ever, if  this  be  with  a  clear,  full,  and  distinct  view  of  the 
truth  of  things,  then  it  is  doing  the  utmost  violence  to 
themselves,  acting  in  the  most  palpable  contradiction  to 
their  very  nature.  But  if  there  be  any  such  thing  in 
mankind  as  putting  half-deceits  upon  themselves;  which 
there  plainly  is,  either  by  avoiding  reflection,  or  (if  they 
do  reflect)  by  religious  equivocation,  subterfuges,  and 
palliating  matters  to  themselves ;  by  these  means  con- 
science may  be  laid  asleep,  and  they  may  go  on  in  a 
course  of  wickedness  with  less  disturbance.  All  the 
various  turns,  doubles,  and  intricacies  in  a  dishonest 
heart,  cannot  be  unfolded  or  laid  open;  but  that  there  is 
somewhat  of  that  kind  is  manifest,  be  it  to  be  called  self- 
deceit,  or  by  any  other  name.  Balaam  had  before  his 
eyes  the  authority  of  God,  absolutely  forbidding  him 
what  he,  for  the  sake  of  a  reward,  had  the  strongest  in- 
clination to:  he  was  likewise  in  a  state  of  mind  sober 
enough  to  consider  death  and  his  last  end:  by  these 
considerations  he  was  restrained,  first  from  going  to  the 
king  of  Moab;  and  after  he  did  go,  from  cursing  Israel. 
But  notwithstanding  this,  there  was  great  wickedness  in 
"his  heart.  He  could  not  forego  the  rewards  of  unright- 
eousness: he  therefore  first  seeks  for  indulgences;  and 
when  these  could  not  be  obtained,  he  sins  against  the 
whole  meaning,  end,  and  design  of  the  prohibition, 
which  no  consideration  in  the  world  could  prevail  with 
him  to  go  against  the  letter  of.  And  surely  that  impious 
counsel  he  gave  to  Balak  against  the  children  of  Israel, 
was,  considered  in  itself,  a  greater  piece  of  wickedness, 
than  if  he  had  cursed  them  in  words. 


SblVII-J  OF  BALAAM.  89 

If  it  be  inquired  what  his  situation,  his  hopes,  and  fears 
were,  in  respect  to  this  his  wish;  the  answer  must  be, 
that  consciousness  of  the  wickedness  of  his  heart  must 
necessarily  have  destroyed  all  settled  hopes  of  dying  the 
death  of  the  righteous:  he  could  have  no  calm  satisfaction 
in  this  view  of  his  last  end:  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is 
possible  that  those  partial  regards  to  his  duty,  now  men- 
tioned, might  keep  him  from  perfect  despair. 

Upon  the  whole,  it  is  manifest,  that  Balaam  had  the 
most  just  and  true  notions  of  God  and  religion;  as  ap- 
pears, partly  from  the  original  story  itself,  and  more 
plainly  from  the  passage  in  Micah;  where  he  explains 
religion  to  consist  in  real  virtue  and  real  piety,  expressly 
distinguished  from  superstition.,  and  in  terms  which  most 
strongly  exclude  dishonesty  and  falseness  of  heart.  Yet 
you  see  his  behaviour:  he  seeks  indulgences  for  plain 
wickedness;  which  not  being  able  to  obtain,  he  glosses 
over  the  same  wickedness,  dresses  it  up  in  a  new  form, 
in  order  to  make  it  pass  off  more  easily  with  himself. 
That  is,  he  deliberately  contrives  to  deceive  and  impose 
upon  himself,  in  a  matter  which  he  knew  to  be  of  the 
utmost  importance. 

To  bring  these  observations  home  to  ourselves:  it  is 
coo  evident,  that  many  persons  allow  themselves  in  very 
unjustifiable  courses,  who  yet  make  great  pretences  to 
religion;  not  to  deceive  the  world,  none  can  be  so  weak 
as  to  think  this  will  pass  in  our  age ;  but  from  principles, 
hopes,  and  fears,  respecting  God  and  a  future  state;  and 
go  on  thus  with  a  sort  of  tranquillity  and  quiet  of  mind. 
This  cannot  be  upon  a  thorough  consideration,  and  full 
resolution,  that  the  pleasures  and  advantages  they  pro- 
pose are  to  be  pursued  at  all  hazards,  against  reason, 
against  the  law  of  God,  and  though  everlasting  destruc- 
tion is  to  be  the  consequence.  This  would  be  doing  too 
great  violence  upon  themselves.  No,  they  are  for  mak- 
ing a  composition  with  the  Almighty.  These  of  his 
commands  they  will  obey:  but  as  to  others — why  they 
will  make  all  the  atonements  in  their  power;  the  ambi- 
tious, the  covetous,  the  dissolute  man,  each  in  a  way 
which  shall  not  contradict  his  respective  pursuit.  In- 
dulgences before,  which  was  Balaam's  first  attempt, 


90  UPON  THE  CHARACTER  [Sm.  VTL 

though  he  was  not  so  successful  in  it  as  to  deceive  him- 
self, or  atonements  afterwards,  are  all  the  same.  And 
here  perhaps  come  in  faint  hopes  that  they  may,  and 
half-resolves  that  they  will,  one  time  or  other,  make 
a  change. 

Besides  these,  there  are  also  persons,  who,  from  a 
more  just  way  of  considering  things,  see  the  infinite 
absurdity  of  this,  of  substituting  sacrifice  instead  of 
obedience;  there  are  persons  far  enough  from  supersti- 
tion, and  not  without  some  real  sense  of  God  and 
religion  upon  their  minds;  who  yet  are  guilty  of  most 
unjustifiable  practices,  and  go  on  with  great  coolness  and 
command  over  themselves.  The  same  dishonesty  and 
unsoundness  of  heart  discovers  itself  in  these  another 
way.  In  all  common  ordinary  cases  we  see  intuitively 
at  first  view  what  is  our  duty,  what  is  the  honest  part. 
This  is  the  ground  of  the  observation,  that  the  first 
thought  is  often  the  best.  In  these  cases  doubt  and 
deliberation  is  itself  dishonesty;  as  it  was  in  Balaam 
upon  the  second  message.  That  which  is  called  con- 
sidering what  is  our  duty  in  a  particular  case,  is  very 
often  nothing  but  endeavouring  to  explain  it  away. 
Thus  those  courses,  which,  if  men  would  fairly  attend  to 
the  dictates  of  their  own  consciences,  they  would  see  to 
be  corruption,  excess,  oppression,  un charitableness ; 
these  are  refined  upon — things  were  so  and  so  circum- 
stantiated —  great  difficulties  are  raised  about  fixing 
bounds  and  degrees:  and  thus  every  moral  obligation 
whatever  may  be  evaded.  Here  is  scope,  I  say,  for  an 
unfair  mind  to  explain  away  every  moral  obligation  to 
itself.  Whether  men  reflect  again  upon  this  internal 
management  and  artifice,  and  how  explicit  they  are  with 
themselves,  is  another  question.  There  are  many  oper- 
ations of  the  mind,  many  things  pass  within,  which  we 
never  reflect  upon  again ;  which  a  bystander,  from  hav- 
ing frequent  opportunities  of  observing  us  and  our  con- 
duct, may  make  shrewd  guesses  at. 

That  great  numbers  are  in  this  way  of  deceiving  them- 
selves is  certain.  There  is  scarce  a  man  in  the  world, 
who  has  entirely  got  over  all  regards,  hopes,  and  fears, 
concerning  God  and  a  future  state;  and  these  apprehen- 


fct.  VII.]  OP  BALAAM.  9  ] 

sions  in  the  generality,  bad  as  we  are,  prevail  in  con- 
siderable degrees  :  yet  men  will  and  can  be  wicked,  with 
calmness  and  thought ;  we  see  they  are.  There  must 
therefore  be  some  method  of  making  it  sit  a  little  easy 
upon  their  minds ;  which,  in  the  superstitious,  is  those 
indulgences  and  atonements  before  mentioned,  and  this 
self-deceit  of  another  kind  in  persons  of  another  charac- 
ter. And  both  these  proceed  from  a  certain  unfairness 
of  mind,  a  peculiar  inward  dishonesty;  the  direct  con- 
trary to  that  simplicity  which  our  Saviour  recommends, 
under  the  notion  of  becoming  little  children,  as  a  neces- 
sary qualification  for  our  entering  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven. 

But  to  conclude:  How  much  soever  men  differ  in  the 
course  of  life  they  prefer,  and  in  their  ways  of  palliating 
and  excusing  their  vices  to  themselves;  yet  all  agree  in 
the  one  thing,  desiring  to  die  the  death  of  the  righteous. 
This  is  surely  remarkable.  The  observation  may  be  ex- 
tended further,  and  put  thus:  Even  without  determining 
what  that  is  which  we  call  guilt  or  innocence,  there  is  no 
man  but  would  choose,  after  having  had  the  pleasure  or 
advantage  of  a  vicious  action,  to  be  free  of  the  guilt  of 
it,  to  be  in  the  state  of  an  innocent  man.  This  shows  at 
least  the  disturbance  and  implicit  dissatisfaction  in  vice. 
If  we  inquire  into  the  grounds  of  it,  we  shall  find  it  pro- 
ceeds partly  from  an  immediate  sense  of  having  done 
evil,  and  partly  from  an  apprehension,  that  this  inward 
sense  shall  one  time  or  another  be  seconded  by  a  higher 
judgment,  upon  which  our  whole  being  depends.  Now 
to  suspend  and  drown  this  sense,  and  these  apprehen- 
sions, be  it  by  the  hurry  of  business  or  of  pleasure,  or  by 
superstition,  or  moral  equivocations,  this  is  in  a  manner 
one  and  the  same,  and  makes  no  alteration  at  all  in  the 
nature  of  our  case.  Things  and  actions  are  what  they 
are,  and  the  consequences  of  them  will  be  what  they  will 
be:  why  then  should  we  desire  to  be  deceived?  As  we 
are  reasonable  creatures,  and  have  any  regard  to  our- 
selves, we  ought  to  lay  these  things  plainly  and  honestly 
before  our  mind,  and  upon  this,  act  as  you  please,  as  you 
think  most  fit ;  make  that  choice,  and  prefer  that  course 
of  life,  which  you  can  justify  to  yourselves,  and  which 


*&  UPON  RESENTMENT  £Skr.  vill. 

sits  more  easy  upon  your  own  mind.  It  will  immedi- 
ately appear,  that  vice  cannot  be  the  happiness,  but  must 
upon  the  whole  be  the  misery,  of  such  a  creature  as  man; 
a  moral,  an  accountable  agent.  Superstitious  obser- 
vances, self-deceit,  though  of  a  more  refined  sort,  will 
not  in  reality  at  all  mend  matters  with  us.  And  the  re- 
sult of  the  whole  can  be  nothing  else,  but  that  with  sim- 
plicity and  fairness  we  keep  innocency,  and  take  heed  unto 
the  thing  that  is  rigid  ;  for  this  alone  shall  bring  a  man 
peace  at  the  last. 


SERMON  VIII. 

UPON  RESENTMENT. 

Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neiyhbour, 
and  hate  thine  enemy  :  but  I  say  unto  you,  Love  your  enemies, 
bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and  pray 
for  them  which  despit 'fully  use  you  and  persecute  you. — Matth.  v. 
43,  44. 

Since  perfect  goodness  in  the  Deity  is  the  principle 
from  whence  the  universe  was  brought  into  being,  and 
by  which  it  is  preserved;  and  since  general  benevolence 
is  the  great  law  of  the  whole  moral  creation ;  it  is  a 
question  which  immediately  occurs,  Why  had  man  im- 
planted in  him  a  principle,  which  appears  the  direct  con- 
trary to  benevolence  ?  Now  the  foot  upon  which  inquiries 
of  this  kind  should  be  treated  is  this  :  to  take  human  na- 
ture as  it  is,  and  the  circumstances  in  which  it  is  placed 
as  they  are ;  and  then  consider  the  correspondence  be- 
tween that  nature  and  those  circumstances,  or  what 
course  of  action  and  behaviour,  respecting  those  circum- 
stances, any  particular  affection  or  passion  leads  us  to 
This  I  mention  to  distinguish  the  matter  now  before  us 
from  disquisitions  of  quite  another  kind;  namely,  Why 
we  are  not  made  more  perfect  creatures,  or  placed  in  better 
circumstances  ?  these  being  questions  which  we  have, 
not,  that  I  know  of,  any  thing  at  all  to  'do  with.  God 
Almighty  undoubtedly  foresaw  the  disorders,  both  natura! 


BblVIII.]  upon  resentment. 

and  moral,  which  would  happen  in  this  state  of  things. 
If  upon  this  we  set  ourselves  to  search  and  examine  why 
he  did  not  prevent  them ;  we  shall,  I  am  afraid,  be  in 
danger  of  running  into  somewhat  worse  than  impertinent 
curiosity.  But  upon  this  to  examine  how  far  the  nature 
which  he  hath  given  us  hath  a  respect  to  those  circum- 
stances, such  as  they  are ;  how  far  it  leads  us  to  act  a 
proper  part  in  them ;  plainly  belongs  to  us :  and  such 
inquiries  are  in  many  ways  of  excellent  use.  Thus  the 
thing  to  be  considered  is,  not,  Why  we  were  not  made  of 
such  a  nature,  and  placed  in  such  circumstances,  as  to  have 
no  need  of  so  harsh  and  turbulent  a  passion  as  resentment : 
but,  taking  our  nature  and  condition  as  being  what  they 
are,  Why,  or  for  what  end  such  a  passion  was  given  us  : 
and  this  chiefly  in  order  to  show  what  are  the  abuses  of  it. 

The  persons  who  laid  down  for  a  rule,  Thou  shalt  love 
thy  neighbour,  and  hate  thine  enemy,  made  short  work 
with  this  matter.  They  did  not,  it  seems,  perceive  any 
thing  to  be  disapproved  in  hatred,  more  than  in  good- 
will: and,  according  to  their  system  of  morals,  our  enemy 
was  the  proper  natural  object  of  one  of  these  passions,  as 
our  neighbour  was  of  the  other  of  them. 

This  was  all  they  had  to  say,  and  all  they  thought 
needful  to  be  said,  upon  the  subject.  But  this  cannot 
be  satisfactory  ;  because  hatred,  malice,  and  revenge,  are 
directly  contrary  to  the  religion  we  profess,  and  to  the 
nature  and  reason  of  the  thing  itself.  Therefore,  since 
no  passion  God  hath  endued  us  with  can  be  in  itself 
evil ;  and  yet  since  men  frequently  indulge  a  passion  in 
such  ways  and  degrees  that  at  length  it  becomes  quite 
another  thing  from  what  it  was  originally  in  our  nature; 
and  those  vices  of  malice  and  revenge  in  particular  take 
their  occasion  from  the  natural  passion  of  resentment: 
it  will  be  needful  to  trace  this  up  to  its  original,  that  we 
may  see  what  it  is  in  itself,  as  placed  in  our  nature  by  its 
Author ;  from  which  it  will  plainly  appear,  for  what  ends 
it  was  placed  there.  And  when  we  know  what  the  pas- 
sion is  in  itself,  and  the  ends  of  it,  we  shall  easily  see, 
what  are  the  abuses  of  it,  in  which  malice  and  revenge  con- 
»ist :  and  which  are  so  strongly  forbidden  in  the  text,  by 
the  direct  contrary  being  commanded. 


94 


UPON  RESENTMENT. 


[tel.  VUl 


Resentment  is  of  two  kinds  :  hasty  and  sudd'n,  or 
settled  and  deliberate.  The  former  is  called  anger,  and 
often  passion;  which,  though  a  general  word,  is  fre- 
quently appropriated  and  confined  to  the  particular  feel- 
ing, sudden  anger,  as  distinct  from  deliberate  resentment, 
malice,  and  revenge.  In  all  these  words  is  usually  im- 
plied somewhat  vicious;  somewhat  unreasonable  as  to 
the  occasion  of  the  passion,  or  immoderate  as  to  the  de- 
gree or  duration  of  it.  But  that  the  natural  passion  itself 
is  indifferent,  St  Paul  has  asserted  in  that  precept,  Be  ye 
angry,  and  sin  not:*  which  though  it  is  by  no  means  to 
be  understood  as  an  encouragement  to  indulge  ourselves 
in  anger,  the  sense  being  certainly  this,  Though  ye  be  angry, 
sin  not;  yet  here  is  evidently  a  distinction  made  between 
anger  and  sin;  between  the  natural  passion,  and  sinful  anger. 

Sudden  anger,  upon  certain  occasions,  is  mere  instinct : 
as  merely  so,  as  the  disposition  to  close  our  eyes  upon 
the  apprehension  of  somewhat  falling  into  them  ;  and  no 
more  necessarily  implies  any  degree  of  reason.  I  say, 
necessarily :  for  to  be  sure  hasty,  as  well  as  deliberate, 
anger  may  be  occasioned  by  injury  or  contempt ;  in  which 
cases  reason  suggests  to  our  thoughts  that  injury  and  con- 
tempt, which  is  the  occasion  of  the  passion :  but  I  am 
speaking  of  the  former  only  so  far  as  it  is  to  be  distinguish- 
ed from  the  latter.  The  only  way  in  which  our  reason  and 
understanding  can  raise  anger,  is  by  representing  to  our 
mind  injustice  or  injury  of  some  kind  or  other.  Now  mo- 
mentary anger  is  frequently  raised,  not  onlv  without  any 
real,  but  without  any  apparent  reason  ;  that  is,  without 
any  appearance  of  injury,  as  distinct  from  hurt  or  pain. 
It  cannot,  I  suppose,  be  thought,  that  this  passion  in 
infants  ;  in  the  lower  species  of  animals  ;  and  which  is 
often  seen,  in  men  towards  them  ;  it  cannot.  (  say,  be 
imagined,  that  these  instances  of  this  passior-  are  the 
effect  of  reason  :  no,  they  are  occasioned  by  me*v  sensa- 
tion and  feeling.  It  is  opposition,  sudden  hurt,  violence, 
which  naturally  excites  the  passion  ;  and  the  real  demerit 
or  fault  of  him  who  offers  that  violence,  or  is  the  cau?e  ol 
that  opposition  or  hurt,  does  not,  in  many  cases,  so  muo'n 
as  come  into  thought. 

*  Ephes.  iv.  26 


Sen.  VIII.]  UPON  RESENTMENT.  95 

The  reason  and  end,  for  which  man  was  made  thus 
liable  to  this  passion,  is,  that  he  might  be  better  qualified 
to  prevent,  and  likewise  (or  perhaps  chiefly)  to  resist 
and  defeat,  sudden  force,  violence,  and  opposition,  con- 
sidered merely  as  such,  and  without  regard  to  the  fault 
or  demerit  of  him  who  is  the  author  of  them.  Yet,  since 
violence  may  be  considered  in  this  other  and  further 
view,  as  implying  fault;  and  since  injury,  as  distinct  from 
harm,  may  raise  sudden  anger;  sudden  anger  may  like- 
wise accidentally  serve  to  prevent,  or  remedy,  such  fault 
and  injury.  But,  considered  as  distinct  from  settled 
anger,  it  stands  in  our  nature  for  self-defence,  and  not 
for  the  administration  of  justice.  There  are  plainly 
cases,  and  in  the  uncultivated  parts  of  the  world,  and, 
where  regular  governments  are  not  formed,  they  fre- 
quently happen,  in  which  there  is  no  time  for  consider- 
ation, and  yet  to  be  passive  is  certain  destruction;  in 
which  sudden  resistance  is  the  only  security. 

But  from  this,  deliberate  anger  or  resentment  is  essen- 
tially distinguished,  as  the  latter  is  not  naturally  excited 
by,  or  intended  to  prevent  mere  harm  without  appearance 
of  wrong  or  injustice.  Now,  in  order  to  see,  as  exactly 
as  we  can,  what  is  the  natural  object  and  occasion  of 
such  resentment;  let  us  reflect  upon  the  manner  in 
which  we  are  touched  with  reading,  suppose,  a  feigned 
story  of  baseness  and  villany^  properly  worked  up  to 
move  our  passions.  This  immediately  raises  indignation, 
somewhat  of  a  desire  that  it  should  be  punished.  And 
though  the  designed  injury  be  prevented,  yet  that  it  was 
designed  is  sufficient  to  raise  this  inward  feeling.  Sup- 
pose the  story  true,  this  inward  feeling  would  be  as 
natural  and  as  just:  and  one  may  venture  to  affirm,  that 
there  is  scarce  a  man  in  the  world,  but  would  have  it 
upon  some  occasions.  It  seems  in  us  plainly  connected 
with  a  sense  of  virtue  and  vice,  of  moral  good  and  evil. 
Suppose  further,  we  knew  both  the  person  who  did  and 
who  suffered  the  injury:  neither  would  this  make  any 
alteration,  only  that  it  would  probably  affect  us  more. 
The  indignation  raised  by  cruelty  and  injustice,  and  the 
desire  of  having  it  punished,  which  persons  unconcerned 
would  feel,  is  by  no  means  malice.    No,  it  is  resentment 


96  UPON  RESENTMENT.  [Sou  nil. 

against  vice  and  wickedness:  it  is  one  of  the  commou 
bonds,  by  which  society  is  held  together;  a  fellow  feeling, 
which  each  individual  has  in  behalf  of  the  whole  species, 
as  well  as  of  himself.  And  it  does  not  appear  that  this, 
generally  speaking,  is  at  all  too  high  amongst  mankind. 
Suppose  now  the  injury  I  have  been  speaking  of  to  be 
done  against  ourselves;  or  those  whom  we  consider  as 
ourselves.  It  is  plain,  the  way  in  which  we  should  be 
affected  would  be  exactly  the  same  in  kind :  but  it  would 
certainly  be  in  a  higher  degree,  and  less  transient;  be- 
cause a  sense  of  our  own  happiness  and  misery  is  most 
intimately  and  always  present  to  us;  and  from  the  very 
constitution  of  our  nature,  we  cannot  but  have  a  greater 
sensibility  to,  and  be  more  deeply  interested  in,  what 
concerns  ourselves.  And  this  seems  to  be  the  whole  of 
this  passion,  which  is,  properly  speaking,  natural  to 
mankind:  namely,  a  resentment  against  injury  and 
wickedness  in  general;  and  in  a  higher  degree  when 
towards  ourselves,  in  proportion  to  the  greater  regard 
which  men  naturally  have  for  themselves,  than  for 
others.  From  hence  it  appears,  that  it  is  not  natural, 
but  moral  evil;  it  is  not  suffering,  but  injury,  which 
raises  that  anger  or  resentment,  which  is  of  any  con- 
tinuance. The  natural  object  of  it  is  not  one,  who 
appears  to  the  suffering  person  to  have  been  only  the 
innocent  occasion  of  his  pain  or  loss;  but  one,  who  has 
been  in  a  moral  sense  injurious  either  to  ourselves  or 
others.  This  is  abundantly  confirmed  by  observing  what 
it  is  which  heightens  or  lessens  resentment;  namely,  the 
same  which  aggravates  or  lessens  the  fault:  friendship, 
and  former  obligations,  on  one  hand;  or  inadvertency, 
strong  temptations,  and  mistake,  on  the  other.  All  this 
is  so  much  understood  by  mankind,  how  little  soever  it 
be  reflected  upon,  that  a  person  would  be  reckoned 
quite  distracted,  who  should  coolly  resent  a  harm,  which 
had  not  to  himself  the  appearance  of  injury  or  wrong. 
Men  do  indeed  resent  what  is  occasioned  through  care- 
lessness: but  then  they  expect  observance  as  their  due, 
and  so  that  carelessness  is  considered  as  faulty.  It  is 
likewise  true,  that  they  resent  more  strongly  an  injury 
done,  than  one  which,  though  designed,  was  prevented, 


Ser.  VIH.J  UPON  RESENTMENT.  97 

in  cases  where  the  guilt  is  perhaps  the  same:  the  reason 
however  is,  not  that  bare  pain  or  loss  raises  resentment, 
but,  that  it  gives  a  new,  and,  as  I  may  speak,  additional 
sense  of  the  injury  or  injustice.  According  to  the  natural 
course  of  the  passions,  the  degrees  of  resentment  are  in 
proportion,  not  only  to  the  degree  of  design  and  delibera- 
tion in  the  injurious  person;  but  in  proportion  to  this, 
joined  with  the  degree  of  the  evil  designed  or  premedi- 
tated; since  this  likewise  comes  in  to  make  the  injustice 
greater  or  less.  And  the  evil  or  harm  will  appear  greater 
when  they  feel  it,  than  when  they  only  reflect  upon  it:  so 
therefore  will  the  injury:  and  consequently  the  resent- 
ment will  be  greater. 

The  natural  object  or  occasion  of  settled  resentment 
then  being  injury,  as  distinct  from  pain  or  loss  ;  it  is  easy 
to  see,  that  to  prevent  and  to  remedy  such  injury,  and  the 
miseries  arising  from  it,  is  the  end  for  which  this  passion 
was  implanted  in  man.  It  is  to  be  considered  as  a 
weapon,  put  into  our  hands  by  nature,  against  injury, 
injustice,  and  cruelty :  how  it  may  be  innocently  em- 
ployed and  made  use  of,  shall  presently  be  mentioned. 

The  account  which  has  been  now  given  of  this  passion 
is,  in  brief,  that  sudden  anger  is  raised  by,  and  was 
chiefly  intended  to  prevent  or  remedy,  mere  harm  distinct 
from  injury;  but  that  it  may  be  raised  by  injury,  and  may 
serve  to  prevent  or  to  remedy  it;  and  then  the  occasions 
and  effects  of  it  are  the  same  with  the  occasions  and 
effects  of  deliberate  anger.  But  they  are  essentially  dis- 
tinguished in  this,  that  the  latter  is  never  occasioned  by 
harm,  distinct  from  injury;  and  its  natural  proper  end  is 
to  remedy  or  prevent  only  that  harm,  which  implies,  or 
is  supposed  to  imply,  injury  or  moral  wrong.  Every 
one  sees  that  these  observations  do  not  relate  to  those, 
who  have  habitually  suppressed  the  course  of  their 
passions  and  affections,  out  of  regard  either  to  interest 
or  virtue;  or  who,  from  habits  of  vice  and  folly,  have 
changed  their  nature.  But,  I  suppose,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  but  this,  now  described,  is  the  general  course  of 
resentment,  considered  as  a  natural  passion,  neither  in- 
creased by  indulgence,  nor  corrected  by  virtue,  nor  pre- 
vailed over  by  other  passions,  or  particular  habits  of  life. 


98  UFON  RESENTMENT.  [Smi.  VHl 

As  to  the  abuses  of  anger,  which  it  is  to  be  observed 
may  be  in  all  different  degrees,  the  first  which  occurs  is 
what  is  commonly  called  passion;  to  which  some  men 
are  liable,  in  the  same  way  as  others  are  to  the  epilepsy, 
or  any  sudden  particular  disorder.  This  distemper  ol 
the  mind  seizes  them  upon  the  least  occasion  in  the 
world,  and  perpetually  without  any  real  reason  at  all: 
and  by  means  of  it  they  are  plainly,  every  day,  every 
waking  hour  of  their  lives,  liable  and  in  danger  of  run- 
ning into  the  most  extravagant  outrages.  Of  a  less 
boisterous,  but  not  of  a  less  innocent  kind,  is  peevishness  ; 
which  I  mention  with  pity,  with  real  pity  to  the  unhappy 
creatures,  who,  from  their  inferior  station,  or  other  cir- 
cumstances and  relations,  are  obliged  to  be  in  the  way 
of,  and  to  serve  for  a  supply  to  it.  Both  these,  for  ought 
that  I  can  see,  are  one  and  the  same  principle :  but  as  it 
takes  root  in  minds  of  different  makes,  it  appears  dif- 
ferently, and  so  is  come  to  be  distinguished  by  different 
names.  That  which  in  a  more  feeble  temper  is  peevish- 
ness, and  languidly  discharges  itself  upon  every  thing 
which  comes  in  its  way;  the  same  principle  in  a  temper 
of  greater  force  and  stronger  passions,  becomes  rage  and 
fury.  In  one,  the  humour  discharges  itself  at  once ;  in 
the  other,  it  is  continually  discharging.  This  is  the 
account  of  passion  and  peevishness,  as  distinct  from  each 
other,  and  appearing  in  different  persons.  It  is  no  ob- 
jection against  the  truth  of  it,  that  they  are  both  to  be 
seen  sometimes  in  one  and  the  same  person. 

With  respect  to  deliberate  resentment,  the  chief  in- 
stances of  abuse  are:  when,  from  partiality  to  ourselves, 
we  imagine  an  injury  done  us,  when  there  is  none:  when 
this  partiality  represents  it  to  us  greater  than  it  really  is: 
when  we  fall  into  that  extravagant  and  monstrous  kind 
of  resentment,  towards  one  who  has  innocently  been  the 
occasion  of  evil  to  us  ;  that  is,  resentment  upon  account 
of  pain  or  inconvenience,  without  injury;  which  is  the 
same  absurdity,  as  settled  anger  at  a  thing  that  ia 
inanimate :  when  the  indignation  against  injury  and 
injustice  rises  too  high,  and  is  beyond  proportion  to  tlve 
particular  ill  action  it  is  exercised  upon  :  or,  lastly,  when 
pain  or  harm  of  any  kind  is  inflicted  merely  in  conse- 


Sum.  VIII.]  UPON   RESENTMENT.  99 

quence  of,  and  to  gratify,  that  resentment,  though  na- 
turally raised. 

It  would  be  endless  to  descend  into  and  explain  all  the 
peculiarities  of  perverseness  and  wayward  humour  which 
might  be  traced  up  to  this  passion.  But  there  is  one 
thing,  which  so  generally  belongs  to  and  accompanies  ail 
excess  and  abuse  of  it,  as  to  require  being  mentioned: 
a  certain  determination,  and  resolute  bent  of  mind  not 
to  be  convinced  or  set  right;  though  it  be  ever  so  plain, 
that  there  is  no  reason  for  the  displeasure,  that  it  was 
raised  merely  by  error  or  misunderstanding.  In  this 
there  is  doubtless  a  great  mixture  of  pride;  but  there  is 
somewhat  more,  which  I  cannot  otherwise  express,  than 
that  resentment  has  taken  possession  of  the  temper  and 
of  the  mind,  and  will  not  quit  its  hold.  It  would  be  too 
minute  to  inquire  whether  this  be  any  thing  more  than 
bare  obstinacy:  it  is  sufficient  to  observe,  that  it,  in  a 
very  particular  manner  and  degree,  belongs  to  the  abuses 
of  this  passion. 

But,  notwithstanding  all  these  abuses,  "Is  not  just  in- 
dignation against  cruelty  and  wrong  one  of  the  instru- 
ments of  death,  which  the  Author  of  our  nature  hath  pro- 
vided? Are  not  cruelty,  injustice,  and  wrong,  the 
natural  objects  of  that  indignation?  Surely  then  it  may 
one  way  or  other  be  innocently  employed  against  them." 
True.  Since  therefore  it  is  necessary  for  the  very  sub- 
sistence of  the  world,  that  injury,  injustice,  and  cruelty, 
should  be  punished;  and  since  compassion,  which  is  so 
natural  to  mankind,  would  render  that  execution  of  jus- 
tice exceedingly  difficult  and  uneasy;  indignation  against 
vice  and  wickedness  is,  and  may  be  allowed  to  be,  a 
balance  to  that  weakness  of  pity,  and  also  to  any  thing 
else  which  would  prevent  the  necessary  methods  of  seve- 
rity. Those  who  have  never  thought  upon  these  sub- 
jects, may  perhaps  not  see  the  weight  of  this:  but  let  us 
suppose  a  person  guilty  of  murder,  or  any  other  action 
of  cruelty,  and  that  mankind  had  naturally  no  indigna- 
tion against  such  wickedness  and  the  authors  of  it;  but 
that  every  body  was  affected  towards  such  a  criminal  in 
the  same  way  as  towards  an  innocent  man:  compassion, 
amongst  other  things,  would  render  the  execution  of  jus- 

c  2 


10U  UPON'   RESENTMENT.  [Ser.  VIIL 

tice  exceedingly  painful  and  difficult,  and  would  often 
quite  prevent  it.  And  notwithstanding  that  the  principle 
of  benevolence  is  denied  by  some  and  is  really  in  a  very 
low  degree,  that  men  are  in  great  measure  insensible  to 
the  happiness  of  their  fellow  creatures;  yet  they  are  not 
insensible  to  their  miserv,  but  are  very  strongly  moved 
with  it:  insomuch  that  there  plainly  is  occasion  for  that 
feeling,  which  is  raised  by  guilt  and  demerit,  as  a  balance 
to  that  of  compassion.  Thus  much  may,  I  think,  justly 
be  allowed  to  resentment,  in  the  strictest  wav  of  moral 
consideration. 

The  good  influence  which  this  passion  has  in  fact 
upon  the  affairs  of  the  world,  is  obvious  to  every  one's 
notice.  Men  are  plainly  restrained  from  injuring  their 
fellow  creatures  by  fear  of  their  resentment;  and  it  is 
very  happy  that  they  are  so,  when  they  would  not  be 
restrained  by  a  principle  of  virtue.  And  after  an  injury 
is  done,  and  there  is  a  necessity  that  the  offender  should 
be  brought  to  justice;  the  cool  consideration  of  reason, 
that  the  security  and  peace  of  society  requires  examples 
of  justice  should  be  made,  might  indeed  be  sufficient  to 
procure  laws  to  be  enacted,  and  sentence  passed:  but  is 
it  that  cool  reflection  in  the  injured  person,  which,  for 
the  most  part,  brings  the  offender  to  justice?  Or  is  it 
not  resentment  and  indignation  against  the  injury  and 
the  author  of  it?  I  am  afraid  there  is  no  doubt,  which 
is  commonly  the  case.  This  however  is  to  be  considered 
as  a  good  effect,  notwithstanding  it  were  much  to  be 
wished  that  men  would  act  from  a  better  principle,  reason 
and  cool  reflection. 

The  account  now  given  of  the  passion  of  resentment, 
as  distinct  from  all  the  abuses  of  it,  may  suggest  to  our 
thoughts  the  following  reflections. 

First,  That  vice  is  indeed  of  ill  desert,  and  must  finally 
be  punished.  Why  should  men  dispute  concerning  the 
reality  of  virtue,  and  whether  it  be  founded  in  the  nature 
of  things,  which  yet  surely  is  not  matter  of  question; 
but  why  should  this,  I  say,  be  disputed,  when  every  man 
carries  about  him  this  passion,  which  affords  him  de- 
monstration, that  the  rules  of  justice  and  equity  are  to 
be  the  guide  of  his  actions  ?    For  every  man  naturally 


Sua.  IX.J  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  101 

feels  an  indignation  upon  seeing  instances  of  villanv  and 
baseness,  and  therefore  cannot  commit  the  same  without 
being  self-condemned. 

Secondly,  That  we  should  learn  to  be  cautious,  lest  we 
charge  God  foolishly,  by  ascribing  that  to  him,  or  the 
nature  he  has  given  us,  which  is  owing  wholly  to  our 
own  abuse  of  it.  Men  may  speak  of  the  degeneracy  and 
corruption  of  the  world,  according  to  the  experience  they 
have  had  of  it;  but  human  nature,  considered  as  the  di- 
vine workmanship,  should  methinks  be  treated  as  sacred  : 
for  in  the  image  of  God  made  he  man.  That  passion, 
from  whence  men  take  occasion  to  run  into  the  dreadful 
vices  of  malice  and  revenge ;  even  that  passion,  as  im- 
planted in  our  nature  by  God,  is  not  only  innocent,  but 
a  generous  movement  of  mind.  It  is  in  itself,  and  in  its 
original,  no  more  than  indignation  against  injury  and 
wickedness :  that  which  is  the  only  deformity  in  the  crea- 
tion, and  the  only  reasonable  object  of  abhorrence  and 
dislike.  How  manifold  evidence  have  we  of  the  divine 
wisdom  and  goodness,  when  even  pain  in  the  natural 
world,  and  the  passion  we  have  been  now  considering  in 
the  moral,  come  out  instances  of  it! 


SERMON  IX. 

UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES. 

Ye  have  heard  tliat  it  hath  been  said,  Tlwu  shalt  love  thy  neighbour, 
and  hate  thine  enemy  :  hut  1  say  unto  you,  Love  your  enemies,  bless 
them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and  pray  for 
them  which  despitefully  use  you  and  persecute  you.  —  Matt-  v 
43,  44. 

As  God  Almighty  foresaw  the  irregularities  and  disorders, 
both  natural  and  moral,  which  would  happen  in  this 
state  of  things;  he  hath  graciously  made  some  provision 
against  them,  by  giving  us  several  passions  and  affec- 
tions, which  arise  from,  or  whose  objects  art>.  those 
disorders.  Of  this  sort  are  fear,  resentment,  compassion, 
and  others;  of  which  there  could  be  no  occasion  or  use 


102  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  [Ser.  IX. 

in  a  perfect  state:  but  in  the  present  we  should  be  ex- 
posed to  greater  inconveniences  without  them ;  though 
there  are  very  considerable  ones,  which  they  themselves 
are  the  occasions  of.  They  are  encumbrances  indeed, 
but  such  as  we  are  obliged  to  carry  about  with  us,  through 
this  various  journey  of  life:  some  of  them  as  a  guard 
against  the  violent  assaults  of  others,  and  in  our  own  de- 
fence; some  in  behalf  of  others;  and  all  of  them  to  put 
us  upon,  and  help  to  carry  us  through  a  course  of  beha- 
viour suitable  to  our  condition,  in  default  of  that  perfec- 
tion of  wisdom  and  virtue,  which  would  be  in  all  respects 
our  better  security. 

The  passion  of  anger  or  resentment  hath  already  been 
largely  treated  of.  It  hath  been  shown,  that  mankind 
naturally  feel  some  emotion  of  mind  against  injury  and 
injustice,  whoever  are  the  sufferers  by  it;  and  even 
though  the  injurious  design  be  prevented  from  taking 
effect.  Let  this  be  called  anger,  indignation,  resentment, 
or  by  whatever  name  any  one  shall  choose;  the  thing 
itself  is  understood,  and  is  plainly  natural.  It  has  like- 
wise been  observed,  that  this  natural  indignation  is  gene- 
rally moderate  and  low  enough  in  mankind,  in  each 
particular  man,  when  the  injury  which  excites  it  doth 
not  affect  himself,  or  one  whom  he  considers  as  himself. 
Therefore  the  precepts  to  forgive,  and  to  love  our  enemies, 
do  not  relate  to  that  general  indignation  against  injury 
and  the  authors  of  it,  but  to  this  feeling,  or  resentment 
when  raised  by  private  or  personal  injury.  But  no  man 
could  be  thought  in  earnest,  who  should  assert,  that, 
though  indignation  against  injury,  when  others  are  the 
sufferers,  is  innocent  and  just;  yet  the  same  indignation 
against  it,  when  we  ourselves  are  the  sufferers,  becomes 
faulty  and  blameable.  These  precepts  therefore  cannot 
be  understood  to  forbid  this  in  the  latter  case,  more  than 
in  the  former.  Nay  they  cannot  be  understood  to  forbid 
this  feeling  in  the  latter  case,  though  raised  to  a  higher 
degree  than  in  the  former:  because,  as  was  also  observed 
further,  from  the  very  constitution  of  our  nature,  we  can- 
not but  have  a  greater  sensibility  to  what  concerns  our- 
selves.  Therefore  the  precepts  in  the  text,  and  others 
of  the  like  import  with  them,  must  be  understood  to  for- 


te.  IX.]  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  103 

bid  07V  y  L\e  excess  and  abuse  of  this  natural  feeling,  in 
cases  of  personal  and  private  injury:  the  chief  instances 
of  which  excess  and  abuse  have  likewise  been  already 
remarked;  and  tyli  of  them,  excepting  that  of  retaliation, 
do  so  plainly  in  the.  very  terms  express  somewhat  un- 
reasonable, disproportionate,  and  absurd,  as  to  admit  of 
no  pretence  or  shadow  of  justification. 

But  since  custom  and  false  honour  are  on  the  side  of 
retaliation  and  revenge,  when  the  resentment  is  natural 
and  just;  and  reasons  are  sometimes  offered  in  justifica- 
tion of  revenge  in  these  cases;  and  since  love  of  our 
enemies  is  thought  too  hard  a  saying  to  be  obeyed:  I  will 
show  t/ie  absolute  unlawfulness  of  the  former  ;  the  obliga- 
tions we  are  under  to  the  latter ;  and  then  proceed  to  some 
reflections,  which  mag  have  a  more  direct  and  immediate 
tendency  to  beget  in  us  a  right  temper  of  mind  towards 
those  who  have  offended  us. 

In  showing  the  unlawfulness  of  revenge,  it  is  not  my 
present  design  to  examine  what  is  alleged  in  favour  of  it, 
from  the  tyranny  of  custom  and  false  honour,  but  only 
to  consider  the  nature  and  reason  of  the  thing  itself; 
which  ought  to  have  prevented,  and  ought  now  to  extir- 
pate, every  thing  of  that  kind. 

First,  Let  us  begin  with  the  supposition  of  that  being 
innocent  which  is  pleaded  for,  and  which  shall  be  shown 
to  be  altogether  vicious,  the  supposition  that  we  were 
allowed  to  render  evil  for  evil,  and  see  what  would  be 
the  consequence.  Malice  or  resentment  towards  any 
man  hath  plainly  a  tendency  to  beget  the  same  passion 
in  him  who  is  the  object  of  it;  and  this  again  increases 
it  in  the  other.  It  is  of  the  very  nature  of  this  vice  to 
propagate  itself,  not  only  by  way  of  example,  which  it 
does  in  common  with  other  vices,  but  in  a  peculiar  way 
of  its  own;  for  resentment  itself,  as  well  as  what  is  done 
in  consequence  of  it,  is  the  object  of  resentment:  hence 
it  comes  to  pass,  that  the  first  offence,  even  when  so 
slight  as  presently  to  be  dropped  and  forgotten,  becomes 
the  occasion  of  entering  into  a  long  intercourse  of  ill 
offices:  neither  is  it  at  all  uncommon  to  see  persons,  in 
this  progress  of  strife  and  variance,  change  parts:  and 
him,  who  was  at  first  the  injured  person,  become  more 


104  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  p^.  (X. 

injurious  and  blameable  than  the  aggressor.  Fut  the  case 
then,  that  the  law  of  retaliation  was  universally  received, 
and  allowed,  as  an  innocent  rule  of  life,  by  all;  and  the 
observance  of  it  thought  by  many  (and  then  it  would 
soon  come  to  be  thought  by  all)  a  point  of  honour:  this 
supposes  every  man  in  private  cases  to  pass  sentence  in 
his  own  cause;  and  likewise,  that  anger  or  resentment 
is  to  be  the  judge.  Thus,  from  the  numberless  partia- 
lities which  we  all  have  for  ourselves,  every  one  would 
often  think  himself  injured  when  he  was  not:  and  in 
most  cases  would  represent  an  injury  as  much  greater 
than  it  really  is;  the  imagined  dignity  of  the  person  of- 
fended would  scarce  ever  fail  to  magnify  the  offence. 
And,  if  bare  retaliation,  or  returning  just  the  mischief 
received,  always  begets  resentment  in  the  person  upon 
whom  we  retaliate,  what  would  that  excess  do?  Add  to 
this,  that  he  likewise  has  his  partialities — there  is  no 
going  on  to  represent  this  scene  of  rage  and  madness: 
it  is  manifest  there  would  be  no  bounds,  nor  any  end. 
If  the  beginning  of  strife  is  as  when  one  letteth  out  water , 
what  would  it  come  to  when  allowed  this  free  and  unre- 
strained course?  As  coals  are  to  burning  coals,  or  wood 
to  fire  ;  so  would  these  contentious  men  be  to  kindle  strife. 
And,  since  the  indulgence  of  revenge  hath  manifestly 
this  tendency,  and  does  actually  produce  these  effects  in 
proportion  as  it  is  allowed;  a  passion  of  so  dangerous  a 
nature  ought  not  to  be  indulged,  were  there  no  other 
reason  against  it. 

Secondly,  It  hath  been  shown  that  the  passion  of  re- 
sentment was  placed  in  man,  upon  supposition  of,  and 
as  a  prevention  or  remedy  to,  irregularity  and  disorder. 
Now  whether  it  be  allowed  or  not,  that  the  passion  itself 
and  the  gratification  of  it  joined  together  are  painful  to 
the  malicious  person;  it  must  however  be  so  with  re- 
spect to  the  person  towards  whom  it  is  exercised,  and 
upon  whom  the  revenge  is  taken.  Now,  if  we  consider 
mankind,  according  to  that  fine  allusion  of  St  Paul, 
as  one  body,  and  every  one  members  one  of  another ;  it 
must  be  allowed  that  resentment  is,  with  respect  to 
society,  a  painful  remedy.  Thus  then  the  very  notion 
or  idea  of  this  passion,  as  a  remedy  or  prevention  of  evii, 


OhuIX.]         upon  forgiveness  of  injuries.  105 

and  as  in  itself  a  painful  means,  plainly  shows  that  it 
ought  never  to  be  made  use  of,  but  only  it\  order  to  pro- 
duce some  greater  good. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  that  this  argument  is  not  founded 
upon  an  allusion  or  simile ;  but  that  it  is  drawn  from  the 
very  nature  of  the  passion  itself,  and  the  end  for  which 
it  was  given  us.  We  are  obliged  to  make  use  of  words 
taken  from  sensible  things,  to  explain  what  is  the  most 
remote  from  them:  and  every  one  sees  from  whence  the 
words  Prevention  and  Remedy  are  taken.  But,  if  you 
please,  let  these  words  be  dropped :  the  thing  itself,  I 
suppose,  may  be  expressed  without  them. 

That  mankind  is  a  community,  that  we  all  stand  in  a 
relation  to  each  other,  that  there  is  a  public  end  and  in- 
terest of  society  which  each  particular  is  obliged  to  pro- 
mote, is  the  sum  of  morals.  Consider  then  the  passion 
of  resentment,  as  given  to  this  one  body,  as  given  to  so- 
ciety. Nothing  can  be  more  manifest,  than  that  resent- 
ment is  to  be  considered  as  a  secondary  passion,  placed 
in  us  upon  supposition,  upon  account  of,  and  with  regard 
to,  injury  ;  not,  to  be  sure,  to  promote  and  further  it,  but 
to  render  it,  and  the  inconveniences  and  miseries  arising 
from  it,  less  and  fewer  than  they  would  be  without  this 
passion.  It  is  as  manifest,  that  the  indulgence  of  it  is,  with 
regard  to  society,  a  painful  means  of  obtaining  these  ends. 
Considered  in  itself,  it  is  very  undesirable,  and  what  so- 
ciety must  very  much  wish  to  be  without.  It  is  in  every 
instance  absolutely  an  evil  in  itself,  because  it  implies  pro- 
ducing misery:  and  consequently  must  never  be  indulged 
or  gratified  for  itself,  by  any  one  who  considers  mankind 
as  a  community  or  family,  and  himself  as  a  member  of  it. 

Let  us  now  take  this  in  another  view.  Every  natural 
appetite,  passion,  and  affection,  may  be  gratified  in  par- 
ticular instances,  without  being  subservient  to  the  parti- 
cular chief  end,  for  which  these  several  principles  were 
respectively  implanted  in  our  nature.  And,  if  neither 
this  end,  nor  any  other  moral  obligation,  be  contradicted, 
such  gratification  is  innocent.  Thus,  I  suppose,  there 
are  cases  in  which  each  of  these  principles,  this  one  ol 
resentment  excepted,  may  innocently  be  gratified,  with- 
out being  subservient  to  what  is  the  main  end  of  it :  that 


106  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  [Tea.  IX. 

is,  though  it  does  not  conduce  to,  yet  it  may  be  gratified 
without  contradicting,  that  end,  or  any  other  obligation. 
But  the  gratification  of  resentment,  if  it  be  not  conducive 
to  the  end  for  which  it  was  given  us,  must  necessarily 
contradict,  not  only  the  general  obligation  to  benevo- 
lence, but  likewise  that  particular  end  itself.  The  end, 
for  which  it  was  given,  is  to  prevent  or  remedy  injury, 
t.  e.  the  misery  occasioned  by  injury  ;  i.  e.  misery  itself; 
and  the  gratification  of  it  consists  in  producing  misery  3 
t.  e.  in  contradicting  the  end  for  which  it  was  implanted 
in  our  nature. 

This  whole  reasoning  is  built  upon  the  difference  there 
is  between  this  passion  and  all  others.  No  other  prin- 
ciple, or  passion,  hath  for  its  end  the  misery  of  our  fel- 
low creatures.  But  malice  and  revenge  meditates  evil 
itself ;  and  to  do  mischief,  to  be  the  author  of  misery, 
is  the  very  thing  which  gratifies  the  passion  :  this  is  what 
it  directly  tends  towards,  as  its  proper  design.  Other 
vices  eventually  do  mischief:  this  alone  aims  at  it  as  an 
end. 

Nothing  can  with  reason  be  urged  in  justification  of 
revenge,  from  the  good  effects  which  the  indulgence  of 
it  were  before  mentioned  *  to  have  upon  the  affairs  of 
the  world  ;  because,  though  it  be  a  remarkable  instance 
of  the  wisdom  of  Providence  to  bring  good  out  of  evil, 
yet  vice  is  vice  to  him  who  is  guilty  of  it.  "  But  sup- 
pose these  good  effects  are  foreseen :"  that  is,  sup- 
pose reason  in  a  particular  case  leads  a  man  the  same 
way  as  passion?  Why  then,  to  be  sure,  he  should  follow 
his  reason,  in  this  as  well  as  in  all  other  cases.  So  that, 
turn  the  matter  which  way  ever  you  will,  no  more  can  be 
allowed  to  this  passion,  than  what  hath  been  already. t 

As  to  that  love  of  our  enemies,  which  is  commanded; 
this  supposes  the  general  obligation  to  benevolence  or 
good-will  towards  mankind :  and  this  being  supposed, 
that  precept  is  no  more  than  to  forgive  injuries  ;  that  is, 
to  keep  clear  of  those  abuses  before  mentioned  :  because 
that  we  have  the  habitual  temper  of  benevolence  is  taken 
for  granted. 

Resentment  is  not  inconsistent  with  good-will;  for  we 

*  Si  nn  VIM.  p   100  f  Ibid  p.  99. 


Ser.  IX.]  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  107 

often  see  both  together  in  very  high  degrees  ;  not  only 
in  parents  towards  their  children,  but  in  cases  of 
friendship  and  dependence,  where  there  is  no  natural 
relation.  These  contrary  passions,  though  they  may 
lessen,  do  not  necessarily  destroy  each  other.  We 
may  therefore  love  our  enemy,  and  yet  have  resentment 
against  him  for  his  injurious  behaviour  towards  us.  But 
when  this  resentment  entirely  destroys  our  natural  bene- 
volence towards  him,  it  is  excessive,  and  becomes 
malice  or  revenge.  The  command  to  prevent  its  having 
this  effect,  i.  e.  to  forgive  injuries,  is  the  same  as  to  love 
our  enemies  ;  because  that  love  is  always  supposed,  un- 
'ess  destroyed  by  resentment. 

"  But  though  mankind  is  the  natural  object  of  bene- 
voknce,  yet  may  it  not  be  lessened  upon  vice,  i.  e.  in- 
jury ?"  Allowed:  but  if  every  degree  of  vice  or  injury 
must  destroy  that  benevolence,  then  no  man  is  the  object 
of  our  love  ;  for  no  man  is  without  faults. 

"  But  if  lower  instances  of  injury  may  Tessen  our 
benevolence,  why  may  not  higher,  or  the  highest,  destroy 
it?"  The  answer  is  obvious.  It  is  not  man's  being  a 
social  creature,  much  less  his  being  a  moral  agent,  from 
whence  alone  our  obligations  to  good-will  towards  him 
arise.  There  is  an  obligation  to  it  prior  to  either  of  these, 
arising  from  his  being  a  sensible  creature ;  that  is,  cap- 
able of  happiness  or  misery.  Now  this  obligation  can- 
not be  superseded  by  his  moral  character.  What  justi- 
fies public  executions  is,  not  that  the  guilt,  or  demerit  of 
the  criminal  dispenses  with  the  obligation  of  good-will, 
neither  would  this  justify  any  severity;  but,  that  his  life 
is  inconsistent  with  the  quiet  and  happiness  of  the  world: 
that  is,  a  general  and  more  enlarged  obligation  neces- 
sarily destroys  a  particular  and  more  confined  one  of  the 
same  kind  inconsistent  with  it.  Guilt  or  injury  then 
does  not  dispense  with  or  supersede  the  duty  of  love  and 
good-will. 

Neither  does  that  peculiar  regard  to  ourselves,  which 
was  before  allowed  to  be  natural*  to  mankind,  dispense 
with  it:  because  that  can  no  way  innocently  heighten 
our  resentment  against  those  who  have  been  injurious 

♦Serm.  VIII.  P-  96- 


1  US  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  [Sbr.  IX 

to  ourselves  in  particular,  any  otherwise  than  as  it 
heightens  our  sense  of  the  injury  or  guilt;  and  guilt, 
though  in  the  highest,  degree,  does  not,  as  hath  heen 
shown,  dispense  with  or  supersede  the  duty  of  love  and 
good-will. 

If  all  this  be  true,  what  can  a  man  say,  who  will  dis- 
pute the  reasonableness,  or  the  possibility,  of  obeying 
the  divine  precept  we  are  now  considering  P  Let  him 
speak  out,  and  it  must  be  thus  he  will  speak.  "  Man- 
kind, i.  e.  a  creature  defective  and  faulty,  is  the  proper 
object  of  good-will,  whatever  his  faults  are,  when  they 
respect  others ;  but  not  when  they  respect  me  myself." 
That  men  should  be  affected  in  this  manner,  and  act  ac- 
cordingly, is  to  be  accounted  for  like  other  vices  ;  but 
to  assert  that  it  ought,  and  must  be  thus,  is  self-partiality 
possessed  of  the  very  understanding. 

Thus  love  to  our  enemies,  and  those  who  have  been 
injurious  to  us,  is  so  far  from  being  a  rant,  as  it  has  been 
profanely  called,  that  it  is  in  truth  the  law  of  our  nature, 
and  what  every  one  must  see  and  own,  who  is  not  quite 
blinded  with  self-love. 

From  hence  it  is  easy  to  see,  what  is  the  degree  in 
which  we  are  commanded  to  love  our  enemies,  or  those 
who  have  been  injurious  to  us.  It  were  well  if  it  could 
as  easily  be  reduced  to  practice.  It  cannot  be  imagined, 
that  we  are  required  to  love  them  with  any  peculiar  kind 
of  affection.  But  suppose  the  person  injured  to  have  a 
due  natural  sense  of  the  injury,  and  no  more;  he  ought 
to  be  affected  towards  the  injurious  person  in  the  same 
way  any  good  men,  uninterested  in  the  case,  would  be  ; 
if  they  had  the  same  just  sense,  which  we  have  supposed 
the  injured  person  to  have,  of  the  fault:  after  which  there 
will  yet  remain  real  good-will  towards  the  offender. 

Now  what  is  there  in  all  this,  which  should  be 
thought  impracticable?  I  am  sure  there  is  nothing  in 
it  unreasonable.  It  is  indeed  no  more  than  that  we 
should  not  indulge  a  passion,  which,  if  generally  indulged, 
would  propagate  itself  so  as  almost  to  lay  waste  the 
world :  that  we  should  suppress  that  partial,  that  false 
self-love,  which  is  the  weakness  of  our  nature:  that  un- 
easiness and  misery  should  not  be  produced,  without  any 


Sub.  IX.)  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  109 

good  purpose  to  be  served  by  it:  and  that  we  should  not 
be  affected  towards  persons  differently  from  what  their 
nature  and  character  require. 

But  since  to  be  convinced  that  any  temper  of  mind,) 
and  course  of  behaviour,  is  our  duty,  and  the  contrary 
vicious,  hath  but  a  distant  influence  upon  our  temper 
and  actions;  let  me  add  some  few  reflections,  which  may 
have  a  more  direct  tendency  to  subdue  those  vices  in  the 
heart,  to  beget  in  us  this  right  temper,  and  lead  us  to  a 
right  behaviour  towards  those  who  have  offended  us: 
which  reflections  however  shall  be  such  as  will  further 
show  the  obligations  we  are  under  to  it. 

No  one,  I  suppose,  would  choose  to  have  an  indignity 
put  upon  him,  or  to  be  injuriously  treated.  If  then  there 
be  any  probability  of  a  misunderstanding  in  the  case, 
either  from  our  imagining  we  are  injured  when  we  are 
not,  or  representing  the  injury  to  ourselves  as  greater 
than  it  really  is;  one  would  hope  an  intimation  of  this 
sort  might  be  kindly  received,  and  that  people  would  be 
glad  to  find  the  injury  not  so  great  as  they  imagined. 
Therefore,  without  knowing  particulars,  I  take  upon  me 
to  assure  all  persons  who  think  they  have  received  in- 
dignities or  injurious  treatment,  that  they  may  depend 
upon  it,  as  in  a  manner  certain,  that  the  offence  is  not 
so  great  as  they  themselves  imagine.  We  are  in  such  a 
peculiar  situation,  with  respect  to  injuries  done  to  our- 
selves, that  we  can  scarce  any  more  see  them  as  they 
really  are,  than  our  eye  can  see  itself.  If  we  could  place 
ourselves  at  a  due  distance,  i.  e.  be  really  unprejudiced, 
we  should  frequently  discern  that  to  be  in  reality  inad- 
vertence and  mistake  in  our  enemy,  which  we  now  fancy 
we  see  to  be  malice  or  scorn.  From  this  proper  point  of 
view,  we  should  likewise  in  all  probability  see  something 
of  these  latter  in  ourselves,  and  most  certainly  a  great 
deal  of  the  former.  Thus  the  indignity  or  injury  would 
almost  infinitely  lessen,  and  perhaps  at  last  come  out  to 
be  nothing  at  all.  Self-love  is  a  medium  of  a  peculiar 
kind;  in  these  cases  it  magnifies  every  thing  which  is 
amiss  in  others,  at  the  same  time  that  it  lessens  every 
thing  amiss  in  ourselves. 

Anger  also  or  hatred  may  be  considered  as  another 


110  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  [SuIX. 

false  medium  of  viewing  things,  which  always  repiesents 
characters  and  actions  much  worse  than  they  really  are. 
Ill-will  not  only  never  speaks,  but  never  thinks  well,  of 
the  person  towards  whom  it  is  exercised.  Thus  in  cases 
of  offence  and  enmity,  the  whole  character  and  behaviour 
is  considered  with  an  eye  to  that  particular  part  which 
has  offended  us,  and  the  whole  man  appears  monstrous, 
without  any  thing  right  or  human  in  him:  whereas  the 
resentment  should  surely  at  least  be  confined  to  that 
particular  part  of  the  behaviour  which  gave  offence: 
since  the  other  parts  of  a  man's  life  and  character  stand 
just  the  same  as  they  did  before. 

In  general,  there  are  very  few  instances  of  enmity 
carried  to  any  length,  but  inadvertency,  misunderstand- 
ing, some  real  mistake  of  the  case,  on  one  side  however, 
if  not  on  both,  has  a  great  share  in  it. 

If  these  things  were  attended  to,  these  ill-humours 
could  not  be  carried  to  any  length  amongst  good  men, 
and  they  would  be  exceedingly  abated  amongst  all. 
And  one  would  hope  they  might  be  attended  to:  for  all 
that  these  cautions  come  to  is  really  no  more  than  desir- 
ing, that  things  may  be  considered  and  judged  of  as  they 
are  in  themselves,  that  we  should  have  an  eye  to,  and 
beware  of,  what  would  otherwise  lead  us  into  mistakes. 
So  that  to  make  allowances  for  inadvertence,  misunder- 
standing, for  the  partialities  of  self-love,  and  the  false 
light  which  anger  sets  things  in;  I  say,  to  make  allow- 
ances for  these,  is  not  to  be  spoken  of  as  an  instance  of 
humbleness  of  mind,  or  meekness  and  moderation  ol 
temper;  but  as  what  common  sense  should  suggest,  to 
avoid  judging  wrong  of  a  matter  before  us,  though  virtue 
and  morals  were  out  of  the  case.  And  therefore  it  as 
much  belongs  to  ill  men,  who  will  indulge  the  vice  I 
have  been  arguing  against,  as  to  good  men,  who  en- 
deavour to  subdue  it  in  themselves.  In  a  word,  all  these 
cautions,  concerning  anger  and  self-love,  are  no  more 
than  desiring  a  man,  who  was  looking  through  a  glass, 
which  either  magnified  or  lessened,  to  take  notice,  that 
the  objects  are  not  in  themselves  what  they  appear 
through  that  medium. 

To  all  these  things  one  might  add,  that,  resentment 


Se*.  IX.]  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  Ill 

being  out  of  the  case,  there  is  not,  properly  speaking, 
any  such  thing  as  direct  ill-will  in  one  man  towards 
another:  therefore  the  first  indignity  or  injury,  if  it  be 
not  owing  to  inadvertence  or  misunderstanding,  may 
however  be  resolved  into  other  particular  passions  or 
self-love :  principles  quite  distinct  from  ill-will,  and 
which  we  ought  all  to  be  disposed  to  excuse  in  others, 
from  experiencing  so  much  of  them  in  ourselves.  A 
great  man  of  antiquity  is  reported  to  have  said,  that,  as 
he  never  was  indulgent  to  any  one  fault  in  himself,  he 
could  not  excuse  those  of  others.  This  sentence  could 
scarce  with  decency  come  out  of  the  mouth  of  any  human 
creature.  But  if  we  invert  the  former  part,  and  put  it 
thus:  that  he  was  indulgent  to  many  faults  in  himself, 
as  it  is  to  be  feared  the  best  of  us  are,  and  yet  was  im- 
placable; how  monstrous  would  such  an  assertion  appear! 
And  this  is  the  case  in  respect  to  every  human  creature, 
in  proportion  as  he  is  without  the  forgiving  spirit  I  have 
been  recommending. 

Further,  though  injury,  injustice,  oppression,  the  base- 
ness of  ingratitude,  are  the  natural  objects  of  indignation, 
or  if  you  please  of  resentment,  as  before  explained;  yet 
they  are  likewise  the  objects  of  compassion,  as  they  are 
their  own  punishment,  and  without  repentance  will  for 
ever  be  so.  No  one  ever  did  a  designed  injury  to  another, 
but  at  the  same  time  he  did  a  much  greater  to  himself. 
If  therefore  we  would  consider  things  justly,  such  a  one 
is,  according  to  the  natural  course  of  our  affections,  an 
object  of  compassion,  as  well  as  of  displeasure:  and  to 
be  affected  really  in  this  manner,  I  say  really,  in  op- 
position to  show  and  pretence,  argues  the  true  greatness 
of  mind.  We  have  an  example  of  forgiveness  in  this 
"•/ay  in  its  utmost  perfection,  and  which  indeed  includes 
in  it  all  that  is  good,  in  that  prayer  of  our  blessed  Saviour 
on  the  cross:  Father,  forgive  them;  for  they  know  not 
what  they  do. 

But  lastly,  The  offences  which  we  are  all  guilty  of 
against  God,  and  the  injuries  which  men  do  to  each  other, 
are  often  mentioned  together:  and,  making  allowances  for 
the  infinite  distance  between  the  Majesty  of  Heaven,  and 
;\  frail  mortal,  and  likewise  for  this,  that  he  cannot  pos- 


1  12  UPON  FORGIVENESS  OF  INJURIES.  [SCT.  IX 

siblv  be  affected  or  moved  as  we  are;  offences  committed 
by  others  against  ourselves,  and  the  manner  in  which  we 
are  apt  to  be  affected  with  them,  give  a  real  occasion  for 
calling  to  mind  our  own  sins  against  God.  Now  there  is  an 
apprehension  and  presentiment,  natural  to  mankind,  that 
we  ourselves  shall  one  time  or  other  be  dealt  with  as  we 
deal  with  others;  and  a  peculiar  acquiescence  in,  and 
feeling  of,  the  equity  and  justice  of  this  equal  distribution. 
This  natural  notion  of  equity  the  son  of  Sirach  has  put 
in  the  strongest  way.  He  that  revengeth  shall  find  ven- 
yeance  from  the  Lord,  and  he  will  surely  keep  his  sins  in 
remembrance.  Foryive  thy  neiyhbour  the  hurt  he  hath  done 
unto  thee,  so  shall  thy  sins  be  foryiven  when  thou  prayest. 
One  man  beareth  hatred  ayainst  another ;  and  doth  he  seek 
pardon  from  the  Lord?  He  sheweth  no  mercy  to  a  man 
which  is  like  himself;  and  doth  he  ask  forgiveness  of  his 
own  sins?*  Let  any  one  read  our  Saviour's  parable  of 
the  kiny  who  took  account  of  his  servants ;\  and  the  equity 
and  Tightness  of  the  sentence  which  was  passed  upon 
him  who  was  unmerciful  to  his  fellow  servant,  will  be 
felt.  There  is  somewThat  in  human  nature,  which  accords 
to  and  falls  in  with  that  method  of  determination.  Let 
us  then  place  before  our  eyes  the  time  which  is  repre- 
sented in  the  parable;  that  of  our  own  death,  or  the  final 
judgment.  Suppose  yourselves  under  the  apprehensions 
of  approaching  death;  that  you  were  just  going  to  appear 
naked  and  without  disguise  before  the  Judge  of  all  the 
earth,  to  give  an  account  of  your  behaviour  towards  your 
fellow  creatures:  could  any  thing  raise  more  dreadful 
apprehensions  of  that  judgment,  than  the  reflection  that 
you  had  been  implacable,  and  without  mercy  towards 
those  who  had  offended  you:  without  that  forgiving 
spirit  towards  others,  which  that  it  may  now  be  exercised 
towards  yourselves,  is  your  only  hope?  And  these 
natural  apprehensions  are  authorized  by  our  Saviour's 
application  of  the  parable:  So  likewise  shall  my  heavenly 
Father  do  also  unto  you,  if  ye  from  your  hearts  foryive  not 
every  one  his  brother  their  trespasses.  On  the  other  hand, 
suppose  a  good  man  in  the  same  circumstance,  in  the 
last  part  and  close  of  life;  conscious  of  many  frailties, 

*  Ecclus.  xxviii.  J — 4.  f  Matt,  xviii. 


gen,  X.]  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  113 

as  the  best  are,  but  conscious  too  that  he  had  been 
meek,  forgiving,  and  merciful;  that  he  had  in  simplicity 
of  heart  been  ready  to  pass  over  offences  against  him- 
self: the  having  felt  this  good  spirit  will  give  him,  not 
only  a  full  view  of  the  amiableness  of  it,  but  the  surest 
hope  that  he  shall  meet  with  it  in  his  Judge.  This  like- 
wise is  confirmed  by  his  own  declaration :  If  ye  forgive 
men  their  trespasses,  your  heavenly  Father  will  likewise 
forgive  you.  And  that  we  might  have  a  Constant  sense 
of  it  upon  our  mind,  the  condition  is  expressed  in  our 
daily  prayer.  A  forgiving  spirit  is  therefore  absolutely 
necessary,  as  ever  we  hope  for  pardon  of  our  own  sins, 
as  ever  we  hope  for  peace  of  mind  in  our  dying  mo- 
ments, or  for  the  divine  mercy  at  that  day  when  we 
shall  most  stand  in  need  of  it. 


SERMON  X 

UPON  SELF-DECEIT. 

And  Nathan  said  to  David,  Tliou  art  the  man. — 2  Sam.  xii.  7 

These  words  are  the  application  of  Nathan's  parable  to 
David,  upon  occasion  of  his  adultery  with  Bathsheba, 
and  the  murder  of  Uriah  her  husband.  The  parable,, 
which  is  related  in  the  most  beautiful  simplicity,  is  this: 
*  There  were  two  men  in  one  city;  the  one  rich  and  the 
other  poor.  The  rich  man  had  exceeding  many  flocks  and 
herds :  but  the  poor  man  had  nothing,  save  one  little  ewe- 
lamb,  which  he  had  bought  and  nourished  up  :  and  it  grew 
up  togetlier  with  him,  and  with  his  children;  it  did  eat  oj 
his  own  meat,  and  drank  of  his  own  cup,  and  lay  in  his 
bosom,  and  was  unto  him  as  a  daughter.  And  there  came 
a  traveller  unto  the  rich  man,  and  he  spared  to  take  of  his 
own  flock,  and  of  his  own  herd,  to  dress  for  the  way -faring 
man  that  was  come  unto  him,  but  took  the  poor  mans  lamb, 
and  dressed  it  for  the  man  that  was  come  to  him.  And 
David's  anger  was  greatly  kindled  against  the  man,  and  he 

*  V«  r.  1. 
H 


114  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  [Seb.  X. 

said  to  Natljan,  As  the  Lord  liveth,  the  man  that  hath  done 
this  thing  shall  surely  die.  And  he  shall  restore  the  lamb 
four-fold,  because  he  did  this  thing,  and  became  he  had  no 
pity.  David  passes  sentence,  not  only  that  there  should 
be  a  fourfold  restitution  made;  but  he  proceeds  to  the 
rigour  of  justice,  the  man  that  hath  done  this  thing  shall 
die:  and  this  judgment  is  pronounced  with  the  utmost 
'ndignation  against  such  an  act  of  inhumanity ;  As  the 
Lord  liveth,  he  shall  surely  die  ;  and  his  anger  was  greatly 
kindled  against  the  man.  And  the  prophet  answered, 
Thou  art  the  man.  He  had  been  guilty  of  much  greater 
inhumanity,  with  the  utmost  deliberation,  thought,  and 
contrivance.  Near  a  year  must  have  passed,  between 
the  time  of  the  commission  of  his  crimes,  and  the  time 
of  the  prophet's  coming  to  him ;  and  it  does  not  appear 
from  the  story,  that  he  had  in  all  this  while  the  least  re- 
morse or  contrition. 

There  is  not  any  thing,  relating  to  men  and  characters, 
more  surprising  and  unaccountable,  than  this  partiality 
to  themselves,  which  is  observable  in  many;  as  there  is 
nothing  of  more  melancholy  reflection,  respecting  mora- 
lity, virtue,  and  religion.  Hence  it  is  that  many  men 
seem  perfect  strangers  to  their  own  characters.  They 
think,  and  reason,  and  judge  quite  differently  upon  any 
matter  relating  to  themselves,  from  what  they  do  in  cases 
of  others  where  they  are  not  interested.  Hence  it  is  one 
hears  people  exposing  follies,  which  they  themselves  are 
eminent  for;  and  talking  with  great  severity  against  par- 
ticular vices,  which,  if  all  the  world  be  not  mistaken, 
they  themselves  are  notoriously  guilty  of.  This  self- 
ignorance  and  self-partiality  may  be  in  all  different  de- 
grees. It  is  a  lower  degree  of  it  which  David  himself 
refers  to  in  these  words,  Who  can  tell  how  oft  he  ojfendeth? 
0  cleanse  thou  me  from  my  secret  faults.  This  is  the 
ground  of  that  advice  of  Elihu  to  Job:  Surely  it  is  meet 
to  be  said  unto  God, — That  which  I  see  not,  teach  thou  me  ; 
if  I  have  done  iniquity,  I  will  do  no  more.  And  Solomon 
saw  this  thing  in  a  very  strong  light,  when  he  said,  He 
that  trusteth  his  own  heart  is  a  fool.  This  likewise  was 
the  reason  why  that  precept,  Know  thyself,  was  so  fre- 
quently inculcated  by  the  philosophers  of  old.    For  if  it 


Sgft.  X.j  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  115 

were  not  for  that  partial  and  fond  regard  to  ourselves,  it 
would  certainly  be  no  great  difficulty  to  know  our  own 
character,  what  passes  within  the  bent  and  bias  of  our 
mind;  much  less  would  there  be  any  difficulty  in  judging 
rightly  of  our  own  actions.  But  from  this  partiality  it 
frequently  comes  to  pass,  that  the  observation  of  many 
men's  being  themselves  last  of  all  acquainted  with  what 
falls  out  in  their  own  families,  may  be  applied  to  a  nearer 
home,  to  what  passes  within  their  own  breasts. 

There  is  plainly,  in  the  generality  of  mankind,  an  ab- 
sence of  doubt  or  distrust,  in  a  very  great  measure,  as  to 
their  moral  character  and  behaviour;  and  likewise  a  dis- 
position to  take  for  granted,  that  all  is  right  and  well 
with  them  in  these  respects.  The  former  is  owing  to 
their  not  reflecting,  not  exercising  their  judgment  upon 
themselves;  the  latter,  to  self-love.  I  am  not  speaking 
of  that  extravagance,  which  is  sometimes  to  be  met  with; 
instances  of  persons  declaring  in  words  at  length,  that 
they  never  were  in  the  wrong,  nor  had  ever  any  diffi- 
dence of  the  justness  of  their  conduct,  in  their  whole 
lives.  No,  these  people  are  too  far  gone  to  have  any 
thing  said  to  them.  The  thing  before  us  is  indeed  oi 
this  kind,  but  in  a  lower  degree,  and  confined  to  the 
moral  character;  somewhat  of  which  we  almost  all  of  us 
have,  without  reflecting  upon  it.  Now  consider,  how 
long  and  how  grossly,  a  person  of  the  best  understanding 
might  be  imposed  upon  by  one  of  whom  he  had  not  any 
suspicion,  and  in  whom  he  placed  an  entire  confidence ; 
especially  if  there  were  friendship  and  real  kindness  in 
the  case:  surely  this  holds  even  stronger  with  respect 
to  that  self  we  are  all  so  fond  of.  Hence  arises  in  men 
a  disregard  of  reproof  and  instruction,  rules  of  conduct 
and  moral  discipline,  which  occasionally  come  in  their 
way:  a  disregard,  I  say,  of  these;  not  in  every  respect, 
but  in  this  single  one,  namely,  as  what  may  be  of  service 
to  them  in  particular  towards  mending  their  own  hearts 
and  tempers,  and  making  them  better  men.  It  never  in 
earnest  comes  into  their  thoughts,  whether  such  admo- 
nitions may  not  relate,  and  be  of  service  to  themselves, 
and  this  quite  distinct  from  a  positive  persuasion  to  the 
contrary,  a  persuasion  from  reflection  that  they  are  in- 

H  1 


116  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  [Sir.  X, 

nocent  and  blameless  in  those  respects.  Thus  we  may 
invert  the  observation  which  is  somewhere  made  upon 
Brutus,  that  he  never  read,  but  in  order  to  make  himseli 
a  better  man.  It  scarce  comes  into  the  thoughts  of  the 
generality  of  mankind,  that  this  use  is  to  be  made  of 
moral  reflections  which  they  meet  with;  that  this  use,  I 
say,  is  to  be  made  of  them  by  themselves,  for  every  body 
observes  and  wonders  that  it  is  not  done  by  others. 

Further,  there  are  instances  of  persons  having  so  fixed 
and  steady  an  eye  upon  their  own  interest,  whatever 
they  place  it  in,  and  the  interest  of  those  whom  they 
consider  as  themselves,  as  in  a  manner  to  regard  nothing 
else;  their  views  are  almost  confined  to  this  alone.  Now 
we  cannot  be  acquainted  with,  or  in  any  propriety  of 
speech  be  said  to  know  any  thing,  but  what  we  attend 
to.  If  therefore  they  attend  only  to  one  side,  they  really 
will  not,  cannot  see  or  know  what  is  to  be  alleged  on  the 
other.  Though  a  man  hath  the  best  eyes  in  the  world, 
he  cannot  see  any  way  but  that  which  he  turns  them. 
Thus  these  persons,  without  passing  over  the  least,  the 
most  minute  thing,  which  can  possibly  be  urged  in  fa- 
vour of  themselves,  shall  overlook  entirely  the  plainest 
and  most  obvious  things  on  the  other  side.  And  whilst 
they  are  under  the  power  of  this  temper,  thought  and 
consideration  upon  the  matter  before  them  has  scarce 
any  tendency  to  set  them  right:  because  they  are  en- 
gaged; and  their  deliberation  concerning  an  action  to  be 
done,  or  reflection  upon  it  afterwards,  is  not  to  see  whe- 
ther it  be  right,  but  to  find  out  reasons  to  justify  or  pal- 
liate it;  palliate  it,  not  to  others,  but  to  themselves. 

In  some  there  is  to  be  observed  a  general  ignorance 
of  themselves,  and  wrong  way  of  thinking  and  judging 
in  every  thing  relating  to  themselves ;  their  fortune,  re- 
putation, every  thing  in  which  self  can  come  in:  and  this 
perhaps  attended  with  the  rightest  judgment  in  all  other 
matters.  In  others  this  partiality  is  not  so  general,  has 
not  taken  hold  of  the  whole  man,  but  is  confined  to  some 
particular  favourite  passion,  interest,  or  pursuit;  suppose 
ambition,  covetousness,  or  any  other.  And  these  per- 
sons may  probably  judge  and  determine  what  is  perfectly 
just  and  proper,  even  in  things  in  which  they  themselves 


SkR- X.J  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  1 17 

are  concerned,  if  these  things  have  no  relation  to  their 
particular  favourite  passion  or  pursuit.  Hence  arises 
that  amazing  incongruity,  and  seeming  inconsistency 
of  character,  from  whence  slight  observers  take  it 
for  granted,  that  the  whole  is  hypocritical  and  false; 
not  being  able  otherwise  to  reconcile  the  several  parts: 
whereas  in  truth  there  is  real  honesty,  so  far  as  it  goes. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  men's  being  honest  to  such  a 
degree,  and  in  such  respects,  but  no  further.  And  this, 
as  it  is  true,  so  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  be  taken 
notice  of,  and  allowed  them;  such  general  and  undis- 
tinguishing  censure  of  their  whole  character,  as  designing 
and  false,  being  one  main  thing  which  confirms  them  in 
their  self-deceit.  They  know  that  the  whole  censure  is 
not  true;  and  so  take  for  granted  that  no  part  of  it  is. 

But  to  go  on  with  the  explanation  of  the  thing  itself: 
Vice  in  general  consists  in  having  an  unreasonable  and 
too  great  regard  to  ourselves,  in  comparison  of  others. 
Robbery  and  murder  is  never  from  the  love  of  injustice 
or  cruelty,  but  to  gratify  some  other  passion,  to  gain 
some  supposed  advantage:  and  it  is  false  selfishness 
alone,  whether  cool  or  passionate,  which  makes  a  man 
resolutely  pursue  that  end,  be  it  ever  so  much  to  the 
injury  of  another.  But  whereas,  in  common  and  ordi- 
nary wickedness,  this  unreasonableness,  this  partiality 
and  selfishness,  relates  only,  or  chiefly,  to  the  temper 
and  passions,  in  the  characters  we  are  now  considering, 
it  reaches  to  the  understanding,  and  influences  the  very 
judgment.*  And,  besides  that  general  want  of  discrust 
and  diffidence  concerning  our  own  character,  there  are, 

*  That  peculiar  regard  for  ourselves  which  frequently  produces  this  partiality  of 
judgment  in  our  own  favour,  may  have  a  quite  contrary  effect,  and  occasion  the 
utmost  diffidence  and  distrust  of  ourselves;  were  it  only,  as  it  may  set  us  upon  a  more 
frequent  and  strict  survey  and  review  of  our  own  character  and  betiaviour.  This 
search  or  recollection  itself  implies  somewhat  of  diffidence  ;  and  the  discoveries  we 
make,  what  i^  brought  to  our  view,  may  possibly  increase  it.  Good-will  to  another 
may  either  blind  our  judgment,  so  as  to  make  us  overlook  his  faults  ;  or  it  may  put 
us  upon  exercising  that  judgment  with  greater  strictness,  to  see  whether  he  is  so 
faultless  and  perfect  as  we  wish  him.  If  that  peculiar  regard  to  ourselves  leads  us 
to  examine  our  own  character  with  this  greater  severity,  in  order  really  to  improve 
and  grow  better,  it  is  the  most  commendable  turn  of  mind  possible,  and  can  scarce 
be  to  excess.  But  if,  as  every  thing  hath  its  counterfeit,  we  are  so  much  employed 
;iliout  ourselves  in  order  to  disguise  what  is  amiss,  anil  to  make  a  better  appearance; 
or  if  our  attention  lo  ourselves  has  chiefly  ihis  eff  ct ;  it  is  liable  to  run  up  into  the 
!  p  a'est  weakness  and  excess,  and  is  like  all  OLlier  i  xcesses  its  own  disappointments 
f«»-  scarce  any  show  theiusi  Ives  to  advantage,  who  are  over  solicitous  of  doing  SO. 


118  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  [Ser.  X. 

you  see,  two  things,  which  may  thus  prejudice  and  darken 
\he  understanding  itself:  that  over-fondness  for  ourselves, 
which  we  are  all  so  liable  to;  and  also  being  under  the 
power  of  any  particular  passion  or  appetite,  or  engaged 
in  any  particular  pursuit.  And  these,  especially  the  last 
of  the  two,  may  be  in  so  great  a  degree,  as  to  influence 
our  judgment,  even  of  other  persons  and  their  behaviour. 
Thus  a  man,  whose  temper  is  formed  to  ambition  or 
covetousness,  shall  even  approve  of  them  sometimes  in 
others. 

This  seems  to  be  in  a  good  measure  the  account  of 
self-partiality  and  self-deceit,  when  traced  up  to  its 
original.  Whether  it  be,  or  be  not  thought  satisfactory, 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  is  manifest;  and  that  it  is  the 
occasion  of  great  part  of  the  unreasonable  behaviour  of 
men  towards  each  other:  that  by  means  of  it  they  palliate 
their  vices  and  follies  to  themselves:  and  that  it  prevents 
their  applying  to  themselves  those  reproofs  and  instruc- 
tions, which  they  meet  with  either  in  scripture  or  in  moral 
and  religious  discourses,  though  exactly  suitable  to  the 
state  of  their  own  mind,  and  the  course  of  their  beha- 
viour. There  is  one  thing  further  to  be  added  here,  that 
the  temper  we  distinguish  by  hardness  of  heart  with 
respect  to  others,  joined  with  this  self-partiality,  will 
carry  a  man  almost  any  lengths  of  wickedness,  in  the  way 
of  oppression,  hard  usage  of  others,  and  even  to  plain 
injustice;  without  his  having,  from  what  appears,  any 
real  sense  at  all  of  it.  This  indeed  was  not  the  general 
character  of  David:  for  he  plainly  gave  scope  to  the 
affections  of  compassion  and  good-will,  as  well  as  to  his 
passions  of  another  kind. 

But  as  some  occasions  and  circumstances  lie  more 
open  to  this  self-deceit,  and  give  it  greater  scope  and 
opportunities  than  others,  these  require  to  be  particularly 
mentioned. 

It  is  to  be  observed  then,  that  as  there  are  express 
determinate  acts  of  wickedness,  such  as  murder,  adultery, 
theft:  so,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  numberless  cases 
in  which  the  vice  and  wickedness  cannot  be  exactly 
defined;  but  consists  in  a  certain  general  temper  and 
course  of  action,  or  ir>  the  neglect  of  some  duty,  suppose 


Ssr.  X.]  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  119 

charity  or  any  other,  whose  bounds  and  degrees  are  not 
fixed.  This  is  the  very  province  of  self-deceit  and  self- 
partiality:  here  it  governs  without  check  or  control. 
"  For  what  commandment  is  there  broken?  Is  there  a 
transgression  where  there  is  no  law?  a  vice  which  can- 
not be  defined?" 

Whoever  will  consider  the  whole  commerce  of  human 
life,  will  see  that  a  great  part,  perhaps  the  greatest  part, 
of  me  intercourse  amongst  mankind,  cannot  be  reduced 
to  fixed  determinate  rules.  Yet  in  these  cases  there  is 
a  right  and  a  wrong:  a  merciful,  a  liberal,  a  kind  and' 
compassionate  behaviour,  which  surely  is  our  duty ;  and 
an  unmerciful  contracted  spirit,  a  hard  and  oppressive 
course  of  behaviour,  which  is  most  certainly  immoral 
and  vicious.  But  who  can  define  precisely,  wherein  that 
contracted  spirit  and  hard  usage  of  others  consist,  as 
murder  and  theft  may  be  defined?  There  is  not  a  word 
in  our  language,  which  expresses  more  detestable  wicked- 
ness than  oppression;  yet  the  nature  of  this  vice  cannot 
be  so  exactly  stated,  nor  the  bounds  of  it  so  determinate! y 
marked,  as  that  we  shall  be  able  to  say  in  all  instances, 
where  rigid  right  and  justice  ends,  and  oppression  begins. 
In  these  cases  there  is  great  latitude  left,  for  every  one 
to  determine  for,  and  consequently  to  deceive  himself. 
It  is  chiefly  in  these  cases  that  self-deceit  comes  in;  as 
every  one  must  see  that  there  is  much  larger  scope  for 
it  here,  than  in  express,  single,  determinate  acts  of 
wickedness.  However  it  comes  in  with  respect  to  the 
circumstances  attending  the  most  gross  and  determinate 
acts  of  wickedness.  Of  this,  the  story  of  David,  now 
before  us,  affords  the  most  astonishing  instance.  It  is 
really  prodigious,  to  see  a  man,  before  so  remarkable  for 
virtue  and  piety,  going  on  deliberately  from  adultery  to 
murder,  with  the  same  cool  contrivance,  and,  from  what 
appears,  with  as  little  disturbance,  as  a  man  would  en- 
deavour to  prevent  the  ill  consequences  of  a  mistake  he 
had  made  in  any  common  matter.  That  total  insensi- 
bility of  mind  with  respect  to  those  horrid  crimes,  after 
the  commission  of  them,  manifestly  shows  that  he  did 
some  way  or  other  delude  himself:  and  this  could  not  be 
with  respect  to  the  crimes  themselves,  they  were  so 


120  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  [Ser.  %. 

manifestly  of  the  grossest  kind.  Wh  t  tb«  particular 
circumstances  were,  with  which  he  extenuated  them,  and 
fjuieted  and  deceived  himself,  is  not  related- 
Having  thus  explained  the  nature  of  internal  hypocrisy 
and  self-deceit,  and  remarked  the  occasions  upon  which 
it  exerts  itself;  there  are  several  things  further  to  he  ob- 
served concerning  it:  that  all  of  the  sources,  to  which  it 
was  traced  up,  are  sometimes  ohservable  together  in  one 
and  the  same  person:  but  that  one  of  them  is  more  re- 
markable, and  to  a  higher  degree,  in  some,  and  others  of 
them  are  so  in  others:  that  in  general  it  is  a  complicated 
thing;  and  may  be  in  all  different  degrees  and  kinds: 
that  the  temper  itself  is  essentially  in  its  own  nature 
vicious  and  immoral.  It  is  unfairness:  it  is  dishonesty; 
it  is  falseness  of  heart:  and  is  therefore  so  far  from  ex- 
tenuating guilt,  that  it  is  itself  the  greatest  of  all  guilt  in 
proportion  to  the  degree  it  prevails ;  for  it  is  a  coiTuption 
of  the  whole  moral  character  in  its  principle.  Our  under- 
standing, and  sense  of  good  and  evil,  is  the  light  and  guide 
of  life:  If  therefore  this  light  that  is  in  thee  be  darkness, 
how  great  is  that  darkness.'*  For  this  reason  our  Saviour 
puts  an  evil  eye  as  the  direct  opposite  to  a  single  eye; 
the  absence  of  that  simplicity,  which  these  last  words 
imply,  being  itself  evil  and  vicious.  And  whilst  men  are 
under  the  power  of  this  temper,  in  proportion  still  to  the 
degree  they  are  so,  they  are  fortified  on  every  side 
against  conviction:  and  when  they  hear  the  vice  and 
folly  of  what  is  in  truth  their  own  course  of  life,  exposed 
in  the  justest  and  strongest  manner,  they  will  often  as- 
sent to  it,  and  even  carry  the  matter  further;  persuading 
themselves,  one  does  not  know  how,  but  some  way  or 
other  persuading  themselves,  that  they  are  out  of  these, 
and  that  it  hath  no  relation  to  them.  Yet,  notwithstand- 
ing this,  there  frequently  appears  a  suspicion,  that  all  is 
not  right,  or  as  it  should  be ;  and  perhaps  there  is  always 
at  bottom  somewhat  of  this  sort.  There  are  doubtless 
many  instances  of  the  ambitious,  the  revengeful,  the 
covetous,  and  those  whom  with  too  great  indulgence  we 
only  call  the  men  of  pleasure,  who  will  not  allow  them- 
selves to  think  how  guilty  they  are,  who  explain  and 

*  Matt.  Ti.  23. 


Sua.X.]  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  121 

argue  away  their  guilt  to  themselves:  and  though  they 
do  reallv  impose  upon  themselves  in  some  measure,  yet 
there  are  none  of  them  but  have,  if  not  a  proper  know- 
ledge, yet  at  least  an  implicit  suspicion,  where  the  weak 
ness  lies,  and  what  part  of  their  behaviour  they  have 
reason  to  wish  unknown  or  forgotten  for  ever.  Truth, 
and  real  good  sense,  and  thorough  integrity,  carry  along 
with  them  a  peculiar  consciousness  of  their  own  genuine- 
ness: there  is  a  feeling  belonging  to  them,  which  does 
not  accompany  their  counterfeits,  error,  folly,  half- 
honesty,  partial  and  slight  regards  to  virtue  and  right, 
so  far  only  as  they  are  consistent  with  that  course  of 
gratification  which  men  happen  to  be  set  upon.  And, 
if  this  be  the  case,  it  is  much  the  same  as  if  we  should 
suppose  a  man  to  have  had  a  general  view  of  some 
scene,  enough  to  satisfy  him  that  it  was  very  disagree- 
able, and  then  to  shut  his  eyes,  that  he  might  not  have  a 
particular  or  distinct  view  of  its  several  deformities.  It 
is  as  easy  to  close  the  eyes  of  the  mind,  as  those  of  the 
body:  and  the  former  is  more  frequently  done  with  wil- 
fulness, and  yet  not  attended  to,  than  the  latter;  the 
actions  of  the  mind  being  more  quick  and  transient,  than 
those  of  the  senses.  This  may  be  further  illustrated  by 
another  thing  observable  in  ordinary  life.  It  is  not  un- 
common for  persons,  who  run  out  their  fortunes,  entirely 
to  neglect  looking  into  the  state  of  their  affairs,  and  this 
from  a  general  knowledge,  that  the  condition  of  them  is 
bad.  These  extravagant  people  are  perpetually  ruined 
before  they  themselves  expected  it:  and  they  tell  you 
for  an  excuse,  and  tell  you  truly,  that  they  did  not  think 
they  were  so  much  in  debt,  or  that  their  expenses  so  far 
exceeded  their  income.  And  yet  no  one  will  take  this 
for  an  excuse,  who  is  sensible  that  their  ignorance  of 
their  particular  circumstances  was  owing  to  their  general 
knowledge  of  them;  that  is,  their  general  knowledge, 
that  matters  were  not  well  with  them,  prevented  their 
looking  into  particulars.  There  is  somewhat  of  the  like 
kind  with  this  in  respect  to  morals,  virtue,  and  religion. 
Men  find  that  the  survey  of  themselves,  their  own  heart 
and  temper,  their  own  life  and  behaviour,  doth  not  afford 
them  satisfaction:  things  are  not  as  they  should  be: 


122  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  [Ss*.  X. 

therefore  they  turn  away,  will  not  go  over  particulars,  or 
look  deeper,  lest  they  should  find  more  amiss.  For  who 
would  choose  to  be  put  out  of  humour  with  himself? 
No  one,  surely,  if  it  were  not  in  order  to  mend,  and  to 
be  more  thoroughly  and  better  pleased  with  himself  for 
the  future. 

If  this  sincere  self-enjoyment  and  home-satisfaction  be 
thought  desirable,  and  worth  some  pains  and  diligence; 
the  following  reflections  will,  I  suppose,  deserve  your 
attention;  as  what  may  be  of  service  and  assistance  to 
all  who  are  in  any  measure  honestly  disposed,  for  avoid- 
ing that  fatal  self-deceit,  and  towards  getting  acquainted 
with  themselves. 

The  first  is,  that  those  who  have  never  had  any 
suspicion  of,  who  have  never  made  allowances  for,  this 
weakness  in  themselves,  who  have  never  (if  I  may  be 
allowed  such  a  manner  of  speaking)  caught  themselves 
m  it,  may  almost  take  for  granted  that  they  have  been 
very  much  misled  by  it.  For  consider:  nothing  is  more 
manifest,  than  that  affection  and  passion  of  all  kinds 
influence  the  judgment.  Now  as  we  have  naturally  a 
greater  regard  to  ourselves  than  to  others,  as  the  private 
affection  is  more  prevalent  than  the  public;  the  former 
will  have  proportionally  a  greater  influence  upon  the 
judgment,  upon  our  way  of  considering  things.  People 
are  not  backward  in  owning  this  partiality  of  judgment, 
in  cases  of  friendship  and  natural  relation.  The  reason 
is  obvious,  why  it  is  not  so  readily  acknowledged,  when 
the  interest  which  misleads  us  is  more  confined,  confined 
to  ourselves:  but  we  all  take  notice  of  it  in  each  other 
in  these  cases.  There  is  not  any  observation  more 
common,  than  that  there  is  no  judging  of  a  matter  from 
hearing  only  one  side.  This  is  not  founded  upon  sup- 
position, at  least  it  is  not  always,  of  a  formed  design  in 
the  relater  to  deceive:  for  it  holds  in  cases,  where  he 
expects  that  the  whole  will  be  told  over  again  by  the 
other  side.  But  the  supposition,  which  this  observation 
is  founded  upon,  is  the  very  thing  now  before  us;  namely, 
that  men  are  exceedingly  prone  to  deceive  themselves,  ami 
judge  too  favourably  in  every  respect,  where  themselves 
and  their  own  interest  are  concerned.    Thus,  though  wo 


Sbi .  X.I  UPON  SELF-DECEIT.  123 

have  not  the  least  reason  to  suspect  that  s'ich  an  in- 
terested person  hath  any  intention  to  deceive  us,  yet  we 
of  course  make  great  allowances  for  his  having  deceived 
himself.  If  this  be  general,  almost  universal,  it  is  prodi- 
gious that  every  man  can  think  himself  an  exception, 
and  that  he  is  free  from  this  self-partiality.  The  direct 
contrary  is  the  truth.  Every  man  may  take  for  granted 
that  he  has  a  great  deal  of  it,  till,  from  the  strictest  ob- 
servation upon  himself,  he  finds  particular  reason  to 
think  otherwise. 

Secondly,  There  is  one  easy  and  almost  sure  way  to 
avoid  being  misled  by  this  self-partiality,  and  to  get  ac- 
quainted with  our  real  character:  to  have  regard  to  the 
suspicious  part  of  it,  and  keep  a  steady  eye  over  our- 
selves in  that  respect.  Suppose  then  a  man  fully  satis- 
fied with  himself,  and  his  own  behaviour;  such  a  one,  if 
you  please,  as  the  Pharisee  in  the  Gospel,  or  a  better 
man. — Well;  but  allowing  this  good  opinion  you  have 
of  yourself  to  be  true,  yet  every  one  is  liable  to  be  mis- 
represented. Suppose  then  an  enemy  were  to  set  about 
defaming  you,  what  part  of  your  character  would  he  sin- 
gle out?  What  particular  scandal,  think  you,  would  he 
be  most  likely  to  fix  upon  you?  And  what  would  the 
world  be  most  ready  to  believe  ?  There  is  scarce  a  mar. 
living  but  could,  from  the  most  transient  superficial  view 
of  himself,  answer  this  question.  What  is  that  ill  thing, 
that  faulty  behaviour,  which  I  am  apprehensive  an  ene- 
my, who  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  me,  would  be 
most  likely  to  lay  to  my  charge,  and  which  the  world 
would  be  most  apt  to  believe?  It  is  indeed  possible 
that  a  man  may  not  be  guilty  in  that  respect.  All  that 
I  say  is,  let  him  in  plainness  and  honesty  fix  upon  that 
part  of  his  character  for  a  particular  survey  and  reflec- 
tion; and  by  this  he  will  come  to  be  acquainted,  whether 
he  be  guilty  or  innocent  in  that  respect,  and  how  far  he 
is  one  or  the  other. 

Thirdly,  It  would  very  much  prevent  our  being  mis- 
led by  this  self-partiality,  to  reduce  that  practical  rule  of 
our  Saviour,  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to 
you,  even  so  do  unto  them,  to  our  judgment  and  way  of 
thinking.    This  rule,  you  see,  consists  of  two  part* 


l  it  llJOiN    SKLJK-DiiCElT.  jSte.  X. 

One  is,  to  substitute  another  for  yourself,  when  you  take 
a  survey  of  any  part  of  your  behaviour,  or  consider  what, 
is  proper  and  fit  and  reasonable  for  you  to  do  upon  am 
occasion:  the  other  part  is,  that  you  substitute  yourseif 
in  the  room  of  another;  consider  yourself  as  the  person 
affected  by  such  a  behaviour,  or  towards  whom  such  an 
action  is  done:  and  then  vou  would  not  only  see,  but 
likewise  feel,  the  reasonableness  or  unreasonableness  of 
such  an  action  or  behaviour.  JBut,  alas!  the  rule  itselt 
may  be  dishonestly  applied:  there  are  persons  who  have 
not  impartiality  enough  with  respect  to  themselves,  nor 
regard  enough  for  others,  to  be  able  to  make  a  just  ap- 
plication of  it.  This  just  application,  if  men  would 
honestly  make  it,  is  in  effect  all  that  I  have  been  recom- 
mending; it  is  the  whole  thing,  the  direct  contrary  tc 
that  inward  dishonesty  as  r  ecting  our  intercourse 
with  our  fellow  creatures.  And  even  the  bearing  this 
rule  in  their  thoughts  may  be  of  some  service;  the  at- 
tempt thus  to  apply  it,  is  an  attempt  towards  being  fair 
and  impartial,  and  may  chance  unawares  to  show  them 
to  themselves,  to  show  them  the  truth  of  the  case  they 
are  considering. 

Upon  the  whole  it  is  manifest,  that  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  this  self-partiality  and  self-deceit:  that  in  some 
persons  it  is  to  a  degree  which  would  be  thought  incre- 
dible, were  not  the  instances  before  our  eyes;  of  which 
the  behaviour  of  David  is  perhaps  the  highest  possible 
one,  in  a  single  particular  case ;  for  there  is  not  the  least 
appearance,  that  it  reached  his  general  character:  that 
we  are  almost  all  of  us  influenced  by  it  in  some  degree, 
and  in  some  respects:  that  therefore  every  one  ought  to 
have  an  eye  to  and  beware  of  it.  And  all  that  I  have 
further  to  add  upon  this  subject  is,  that  either  there  is  a 
difference  between  right  and  wrong,  or  there  is  not: 
religion  is  true,  or  it  is  not.  If  it  be  not,  there  is  no 
reason  for  any  concern  about  it:  but  if  it  be  true,  it  re- 
quires real  fairness  of  mind  and  honesty  of  heart.  And, 
if  people  will  be  wicked,  they  had  better  of  the  two  be 
so  from  the  common  vicious  passions  without  such  re- 
finements, than  from  this  deep  and  calm  source  of  delu- 
sion; which  undermines  the  whole  principle  of  good; 


IER.XI.J        UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  125 

darkens  that  light,  that  candle  of  the  Lord  within,  which 
is  to  direct  our  steps ;  and  corrupts  conscience,  which  is 
the  guide  of  life. 


SERMON  XI. 

UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  NEIGHBOUR. 

PREACHED  ON  ADVENT  SUNDAY. 

And  if  there  be  any  other  commandment,  it  is  briefly  comprehended 
in  this  saying,  namely,  Thou  shall  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself — 
Rom.  xiii.  9. 

It  is  commonly  observed,  that  there  is  a  disposition  in 
men  to  complain  of  the  viciousness  and  corruption  of  the 
age  in  which  they  live,  as  greater  than  that  of  former 
ones;  which  is  usually  followed  with  this  further  obser- 
vation, that  mankind  has  been  in  that  respect  much  the 
same  in  all  times.  Now,  not  to  determine  whether  this 
last  be  not  contradicted  by  the  accounts  of  history;  thus 
much  can  scarce  be  doubted,  that  vice  and  folly  takes 
different  turns,  and  some  particular  kinds  of  it  are  more 
open  and  avowed  in  some  ages  than  in  others:  and,  I 
suppose,  it  may  be  spoken  of  as  very  much  the  distinc- 
tion of  the  present  to  profess  a  .contracted  spirit,  and 
greater  regards  to  self-interest,  than  appears  to  have 
been  done  formerly.  Upon  this  account  it  seems  worth 
while  to  inquire,  whether  private  interest  is  likely  to  be 
promoted  in  proportion  to  the  degree  in  which  self-love 
engrosses  us,  and  prevails  over  all  other  principles;  or 
whether  the  contracted  affection  may  not  possibly  be  so  pre' 
valent  as  to  disappoint  itself,  and  even  contradict  its  own 
end,  private  good. 

And  since,  further,  there  is  generally  thought  to  be 
some  peculiar  kind  of  contrariety  between  self-love  and 
the  love  of  our  neighbour,  between  the  pursuit  of  public 
and  of  private  good;  insomuch  that  when  you  are  re- 
commending one  of  these,  you  are  supposed  to  be  speak- 
ing against  the  other;  and  from  hence  arises  a  secret 
prejudice  against,  and  frequently  open  scorn  of  all  talk 
of  public  spirit,  and  real  good-will  to  our  fellow  crea- 


126  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  [Seb.  XI. 

tures ;  it  will  be  necessary  to  inquire  what  respect  benevo- 
lence hath  to  self -love,  and  the  pursuit  of  private  interest 
to  the  pursuit  of  public:  or  whether  there  be  any  thing 
of  that  peculiar  inconsistence  and  contrariety  between 
them,  over  and  above  what  there  is  between  self-love 
and  other  passions  and  particular  affections,  and  their 
respective  pursuits. 

These  inquiries,  it  is  hoped,  may  be  favourably  at- 
tended to:  for  there  shall  be  all  possible  concessions 
made  to  the  favourite  passion,  which  hath  so  much  al- 
lowed to  it,  and  whose  cause  is  so  universally  pleaded: 
it  shall  be  treated  with  the  utmost  tenderness  and  con- 
cern for  its  interests. 

In  order  to  this,  as  well  as  to  determine  the  foremen- 
tioned  questions,  it  will  be  necessary  to  consider  the  na- 
ture, the  object,  and  end  of  that  self-love,  as  distinguishea 
from  other  principles  or  affections  in  the  mind,  and  their 
respective  objects. 

Every  man  hath  a  general  desire  of  his  own  happi- 
ness; and  likewise  a  variety  of  particular  affections,  pas- 
sions, and  appetites  to  particular  external  objects.  The 
former  proceeds  from,  or  is  self-love;  and  seems  inse- 
parable from  all  sensible  creatures,  who  can  reflect  upon 
themselves  and  their  own  interest  or  happiness,  so  as  to 
have  that  interest  an  object  to  their  minds:  what  is  to  be 
said  of  the  latter  is,  that  they  proceed  from,  or  together 
make  up  that  particular  nature,  according  to  which  man 
is  made.  The  object  the  former  pursues  is  somewhat 
internal,  our  own  happiness,  enjoyment,  satisfaction; 
whether  we  have,  or  have  not,  a  distinct  particular  per- 
ception what  it  is,  or  wherein  it  consists:  the  objects  of 
the  latter  are  this  or  that  particular  external  thing,  which 
the  affections  tend  towards,  and  of  which  it  hath  always 
a  particular  idea  or  perception.  The  principle  we  call 
self-love  never  seeks  any  thing  external  for  the  sake  of 
the  thing,  but  only  as  a  means  of  happiness  or  good: 
particular  affections  rest  in  the  external  things  them- 
selves. One  belongs  to  man  as  a  reasonable  creature 
reflecting  upon  his  own  interest  or  happiness.  The 
other,  though  quite  distinct  from  reason,  are  as  much  a 
part  of  human  nature. 


Xi.j  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  127 

That  ail  particular  appetites  and  passions  are  towards 
external  things  themselves,  distinct  from  the  pleasure  aris- 
ing from  t/wm,  is  manifested  from  hence;  that  there 
could  not  be  this  pleasure,  were  it  not  for  that  prior 
suitableness  between  the  object  and  the  passion:  there 
could  be  no  enjoyment  or  delight  from  one  thing  more 
than  another,  from  eating  food  more  than  from  swallow- 
ing a  stone,  if  there  were  not  an  affection  or  appetite  to 
one  thing  more  than  another. 

Every  particular  affection,  even  the  love  of  our  neigh- 
bour, is  as  really  our  own  affection,  as  self-love;  and  the 
pleasure  arising  from  its  gratification  is  as  much  my  own 
pleasure,  as  the  pleasure  self-love  would  have,  from 
knowing  I  myself  should  be  happy  some  time  hence, 
would  be  my  own  pleasure.    And  if,  because  every  par- 
ticular affection  is  a  man's  own,  and  the  pleasure  arising 
from  its  gratification  his  own  pleasure,  or  pleasure  to 
himself,  such  particular  affection  must  be  called  self-love; 
according  to  this  way  of  speaking,  no  creature  whatever 
can  possibly  act  but  merely  from  self-love ;  and  every 
action  and  every  affection  whatever  is  to  be  resolved  up 
into  this  one  principle.     But   then  this  is  not  the 
language  of  mankind:  or  if  it  were,  we  should  want 
words  to  express  the  difference,  between  the  principle 
of  an  action,  proceeding  from  cool  consideration  that  it 
will  be  to  my  own  advantage;  and  an  action,  suppose  of 
revenge,  or  of  friendship,  by  which  a  man  runs  upon 
certain  ruin,  to  do  evil  or  good  to  another.    It  is  mani- 
fest the  principles  of  these  actions  are  totally  different, 
and  so  want  different  words  to  be  distinguished  by  :  all 
that  they  agree  in  is,  that  they  both  proceed  from,  and 
are  done  to  gratify  an  inclination  in  a  man's  self.  But 
the  principle  or  inclination  in  one  case  is  self-love :  in 
the  other,  hatred  or  love  of  another.    There  is  then  a 
distinction  between  the  cool  principle  of  self-love,  or 
general  desire  of  our  own  happiness,  as  one  part  of  our 
nature,  and  one  principle  of  action ;  and  the  particular 
affections  towards  particular  external  objects,  as  another 
part  of  our  nature,  and  another  principle  of  action.  How 
much  soever  therefore  is  to  be  allowed  to  self-love,  yet 
it  cannot  be  allowed  to  be  the  whole  of  our  inward  con- 


128  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  [Ser.  XI. 

stitution  ;  because,  you  see,  there  are  other  parts  or  prin- 
ciples which  come  into  it. 

Further,  private  happiness  or  good  is  all  which  self- 
love  can  make  us  desire,  or  be  concerned  about:  in  hav- 
ing this  consists  its  gratification  ;  it  is  an  affection  to  our- 
selves ;  a  regard  to  our  own  interest,  happiness,  and 
private  good  :  and  in  the  proportion  a  man  hath  this,  he 
is  interested,  or  a  lover  of  himself.  Let  this  be  kept  in 
mind ;  because  there  is  commonly,  as  I  shall  presently 
have  occasion  to  observe,  another  sense  put  upon  these 
words.  On  the  other  hand,  particular  affections  tend 
towards  particular  external  things:  these  are  their  ob- 
jects: having  these  is  their  end:  in  this  consists  their 
gratification:  no  matter  whether  it  be,  or  be  not,  upon 
the  whole,  our  interest  or  happiness.  An  action  done 
from  the  former  of  these  principles  is  called  an  interest- 
ed action.  An  action  proceeding  from  any  of  the  latter 
has  its  denomination  of  passionate,  ambitious,  friendly, 
revengeful,  or  any  other,  from  the  particular  appetite  or 
affection  from  which  it  proceeds.  Thus  self-love  as  one 
part  of  human  nature,  and  the  several  particular  princi- 
ples as  the  other  part,  are,  themselves,  their  objects  and 
ends,  stated  and  shown. 

From  hence  it  will  be  easy  to  see,  how  far,  and  in 
what  ways,  each  of  these  can  contribute  and  be  subser- 
vient to  the  private  good  of  the  individual.  Happiness 
does  not  consist  in  self-love.  The  desire  of  happiness 
is  no  more  the  thing  itself,  than  the  desire  of  riches  is 
the  possession  or  enjoyment  of  them.  People  may  love 
themselves  with  the  most  entire  and  unbounded  affection, 
and  yet  be  extremely  miserable.  Neither  can  self-love 
any  way  help  them  out,  but  by  setting  them  on  work 
to  get  rid  of  the  causes  of  their  misery,  to  gain  or  make 
use  of  those  objects  which  are  by  nature  adapted  to  af- 
ford satisfaction.  Happiness  or  satisfaction  consists 
only  in  the  enjoyment  of  those  objects,  which  are  by  na- 
ture suited  to  our  several  particular  appetites,  passions, 
and  affections.  So  that  if  self-love  wholly  engrosses  us 
and  leaves  no  room  for  any  other  principle,  there  can 
be  absolutely  no  such  thing  at  all  as  happiness,  or  enjoy- 
ment of  any  kind  whatever;  since  happiness  consists  iv 


§„.  XI.]  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  129 

the  gratification  of  particular  passions,  which  supposes 
the  having  of  them.  Self-love  then  does  not  constitute 
this  or  that  to  be  our  interest  or  good  ;  but,  our  interest 
or  good  being  constituted  by  nature  and  supposed,  self- 
love  only  puts  us  upon  obtaining  and  securing  it.  There- 
fore, if  it  be  possible,  that  self-love  may  prevail  and  exert 
itself  in  a  degree  or  manner  which  is  not  subservient  to 
this  end  ;  then  it  will  not  fo'low,  that  our  interest  will  be 
promoted  in  proportion  to  the  degree  in  which  that 
principle  engrosses  us,  and  prevails  over  others.  Nay 
further,  the  private  and  contracted  affection,  when  it  is 
not  subservient  to  this  end,  private  good,  may,  for  any 
thing  that  appears,  have  a  direct  contrary  tendency  and 
effect.  And  if  we  will  consider  the  matter,  we  shall  see 
that  it  often  really  has.  Disengagement  is  absolutely  ne- 
cessary to  enjoyment:  and  a  person  may  have  so  steady 
and  fixed  an  eye  upon  his  own  interest,  whatever  he 
places  it  in,  as  may  hinder  him  from  attending  to  many 
gratifications  within  his  reach,  which  others  have  their 
minds  free  and  open  to.  Over- fondness  for  a  child  is 
not  generally,  thought  to  be  for  its  advantage :  and,  if 
there  be  any  guess  to  be  made  from  appearances,  surely 
that  character  we  call  selfish  is  not  the  most  promising' 
for  happiness.  Such  a  temper  may  plainly  be,  and  exert 
itself  in  a  degree  and  manner  which  may  give  unneces- 
sary and  useless  solicitude  and  anxiety,  in  a  degree  and 
manner  which  may  prevent  obtaining  the  means  and 
materials  of  enjoyment,  as  well  as  the  making  use  of 
them.  Immoderate  self-love  does  very  ill  consult  its 
own  interest:  and  how  much  soever  a  paradox  it  may 
appear,  it  is  certainly  true,  that  even  from  self-love  we 
should  endeavour  to  get  over  all  inordinate  regard  to, 
and  consideration  of  ourselves.  Every  one  of  our  pas- 
sions and  affections  hath  its  natural  stint  and  bound,, 
which  may  easily  be  exceeded  ;  whereas  our  enjoyments 
can  possibly  be  but  in  a  determinate  measure  and  de- 
gree. Therefore  such  excess  of  the  affection,  since  it 
cannot  procure  any  enjoyment,  must  in  all  cases  be  use- 
less; but  is  generally  attended  with  inconveniences,  and 
often  is  downright  pain  and  misery.  This  holds  as  much 
with  regard  to  self-love  as  to  all  other  affections.  The 

I 


130  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  [Sk.  XI. 

natural  degree  of  it,  so  far  as  it  sets  us  on  work  to  gain 
and  make  use  of  the  materials  of  satisfaction,  may  be  to 
our  real  advantage;  but  beyond  or  besides  this,  it  is  in 
several  respects  an  inconvenience  and  disadvantage. 
Thus  it  appears,  that  private  interest  is  so  far  from  be- 
ing likely  to  be  promoted  in  proportion  to  the  degree  in 
which  self-love  engrosses  us,  and  prevails  over  all  other 
principles;  that  the  contracted  affection  maybe  so  preva- 
lent as  to  disappoint  itself,  and  even  contradict  its  own  end, 
private  good. 

"But  who,  except  the  most  sordidly  covetous,  ever 
thought  there  was  any  rivalship  between  the  love  of 
greatness,  honour,  power,  or  between  sensual  appetites, 
and  self-love?  No,  there  is  a  perfect  harmony  between 
them.  It  is  by  means  of  these  particular  appetites  and 
affections  that  self-love  is  gratified  in  enjoyment,  happi- 
ness, and  satisfaction.  The  competition  and  rivalship  is 
between  self-love  and  the  love  of  our  neighbour :  that 
affection  which  leads  us  out  of  ourselves,  makes  us  re- 
gardless of  our  own  interest,  and  substitute  that  of  an- 
other in  its  stead."  Whether  then  there  be  any  peculiar 
competition  and  contrariety  in  this  case,  shall  now  be 
considered. 

Self-love  and  interestedness  was  stated  to  consist  in  01 
foe  an  affection  to  ourselves,  a  regard  to  our  own  private 
good:  it  is  therefore  distinct  from  benevolence,  which  is 
an  affection  to  the  good  of  our  fellow  creatures.  But 
that  benevolence  is  distinct  from,  that  is,  not  the  same 
thing  with  self-love,  is  no  reason  for  it  being  looked  up- 
on with  any  peculiar  suspicion  ;  because  every  principle 
whatever,  by  means  of  which  self-love  is  gratified,  is  dis- 
tinct from  it :  and  all  things  which  are  distinct  from  each 
other  are  equally  so.  A  man  has  an  affection  or  aver- 
sion to  another  :  that  one  of  these  tends  to,  and  is  grati- 
fied by  doing  good,  that  the  other  tends  to,  and  is  grati- 
fied by  doing  harm,  does  not  in  the  least  alter  the  respect 
which  either  one  or  the  other  of  these  inward  feelings 
has  to  self-love.  We  use  the  word  property  so  as  to 
exclude  any  other  persons  having  an  interest  in  that  oi 
which  we  say  a  particular  man  has  the  property.  And 
we  often  use  the  word  selfish  so  as  to  exclude  in  the  same 


Brit.  X».j  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  13' 

manner  all  regards  to  the  good  of  others.  But  the  eases 
are  not  parallel :  for  though  that  exclusion  is  really  part 
of  the  idea  of  property ;  yet  such  positive  exclusion,  or 
bringing  this  peculiar  disregard  to  the  good  of  others  into 
the  idea  of  self-love,  is  in  reality  adding  to  the  idea,  or 
changing  it  from  what  it  was  before  stated  to  consist  in, 
namely,  in  an  affection  to  ourselves.*  This  being  the 
whole  idea  of  self-love,  it  can  no  otherwise  exclude  good- 
will or  love  of  others,  than  merely  by  not  including  it, 
no  otherwise,  than  it  excludes  love  of  arts  or  of  reputa- 
tion, or  of  any  thing  else.  Neither  on  the  other  hand 
does  benevolence,  any  more  than  love  of  arts  or  of  repu- 
tation, exclude  self-love.  Love  of  our  neighbour  then 
has  just  the  same  respect  to,  is  no  more  distant  from 
self-love,  than  hatred  of  our  neighbour,  or  than  love  or 
hatred  of  any  thing  else.  Thus  the  principles,  from 
which  men  rush  upon  certain  ruin  for  the  destruction  of 
an  enemy,  and  for  the  preservation  of  a  friend,  have  the 
same  respect  to  the  private  affection,  and  are  equally 
interested,  or  equally  disinterested:  and  it  is  of  no  avail, 
whether  they  are  said  to  be  one  or  the  other.  Therefore 
to  those  who  are  shocked  to  hear  virtue  spoken  of  as  disin- 
terested, it  may  be  allowed  that  it  is  indeed  absurd  to  speak 
thus  of  it;  unless  hatred,  several  particular  instances  of 
vice,  and  all  the  common  affections  and  aversions  in  man- 
kind, are  acknowledged  to  be  disinterested  too.  Is  there 
any  less  inconsistence,  between  the  love  of  inanimate 
things,  or  of  creatures  merely  sensitive,  and  self-love; 
than  between  self-love  and  the  love  of  our  neighbour  ? 
Is  desire  of  and  delight  in  the  happiness  of  another  any 
more  a  diminution  of  self-love,  than  desire  of  and  delight 
in  the  esteem  of  another?  They  are  both  equally  desire 
of  and  delight  in  somewhat  external  to  ourselves:  either 
both  or  neither  are  so.  The  object  of  self-love  is  expressed 
in  the  term  self:  and  every  appetite  of  sense,  and  every 
particular  affection  of  the  heart,  are  equally  interested  or 
disinterested,  because  the  objects  of  them  all  are  equally 
self  or  somewhat  else.  Whatever  ridicule  therefore  the 
mention  of  a  disinterested  principle  or  action  may  be 
iupposed  to  lie  open  to,  must,  upon  the  matter  being 

*  p.  127. 
12 


132  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  [Sw.  XL 

thus  stated,  relate  to  ambition,  and  every  appetite  and 
particular  affection,  as  much  as  to  benevolence.  And 
indeed  all  the  ridicule,  and  all  the  grave  perplexity,  oi 
which  this  subject  hath  had  its  full  share,  is  merely  from 
words.  The  most  intelligible  way  of  speaking  of  it  seems 
to  be  this:  that  self-love  and  the  actions  done  in  con- 
sequence of  it  (for  these  will  presently  appear  to  be  the 
same  as  to  this  question)  are  interested;  that  particular 
affections  toAvards  external  objects,  and  the  actions  done 
in  consequence  of  those  affections,  are  not  so.  But  every 
one  is  at  liberty  to  use  words  as  he  pleases.  All  that  is 
here  insisted  upon  is,  that  ambition,  revenge,  benevo- 
lence, all  particular  passions  whatever,  and  the  actions 
they  produce,  are  equally  interested  or  disinterested. 

Thus  it  appears  that  there  is  no  peculiar  contrariety 
between  self-love  and  benevolence;  no  greater  competi- 
tion between  these,  than  between  any  other  particular 
affections  and  self-love.  This  relates  to  the  affections 
themselves.  Let  us  now  see  whether  there  be  any  pe- 
culiar contrariety  between  the  respective  courses  of  life 
which  these  affections  lead  to;  whether  there  be  any 
greater  competition  between  the  pursuit  of  private  and 
of  public  good,  than  between  any  other  particular  pur- 
suits and  that  of  private  good. 

There  seems  no  other  reason  to  suspect  that  there  is 
any  such  peculiar  contrariety,  but  only  that  the  courses 
of  action  which  benevolence  leads  to,  has  a  more  direct 
tendency  to  promote  the  good  of  others,  than  that  course 
of  action  which  love  of  reputation  suppose,  or  any  other 
particular  affection  leads  to.  But  that  any  affection 
tends  to  the  happiness  of  another,  does  not  hinder  its 
tending  to  one's  own  happiness  too.  That  others  enjoy 
the  benefit  of  the  air  and  the  light  of  the  sun,  does  not 
hinder  but  that  these  are  as  much  one's  own  private 
advantage  now,  as  they  would  be  if  we  had  the  property 
of  them  exclusive  of  all  others.  So  a  pursuit  which 
tends  to  promote  the  good  of  another,  yet  may  have  as 
great  tendency  to  promote  private  interest,  as  a  pursuit 
which  does  not  tend  to  the  good  of  another  at  all,  or 
which  is  mischievous  to  him.  All  particular  affectiont 
whatever,  resentment,  benevolence,  love  of  arts,  equally 


gER.  XI  ]  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  133 

lead  to  a  course  of  action  for  their  own  gratification,  i.e. 
the  gratification  of  ourselves;  and  the  gratification  of 
eacli  ^ives  delight:  so  far  then  it  is  manifest  they  have 
all  the  same  respect  to  private  interest.  Now  take  into 
consideration  further,  concerning  these  three  pursuits, 
that  the  end  of  the  first  is  the  harm,  of  the  second,  the 
good  of  another,  of  the  last,  somewhat  indifferent;  and 
is  there  any  necessity,  that  these  additional  considerations 
should  alter  the  respect,  which  we  before  saw  these  three 
pursuits,  had  to  private  interest;  or  render  any  one  of 
them  less  conducive  to  it,  than  any  other  ?  Thus  one 
man's  affection  is  to  honour  as  his  end;  in  order  to  ob- 
tain which  he  thinks  no  pains  too  great.  Suppose 
another,  with  such  a  singularity  of  mind,  as  to  have  the 
same  affection  to  public  good  as  his  end,  which  he 
endeavours  with  the  same  labour  to  obtain.  In  case  of 
success,  surely  the  man  of  benevolence  hath  as  great 
enjoyment  as  the  man  of  ambition;  they  both  equally 
having  the  end  of  their  affections,  in  the  same  degree, 
tended  to:  but  in  case  of  disappointment,  the  benevolent 
man  has  clearly  the  advantage;  since  endeavouring  to 
do  good  considered  as  a  virtuous  pursuit,  is  gratified  by 
its  own  consciousness,  i.e.  is  in  a  degree  its  own  reward. 

And  as  to  these  two,  or  benevolence  and  any  other 
particular  passions  whatever,  considered  in  a  further 
view,  as  forming  a  general  temper,  which  more  or  less 
disposes  us  for  enjoyment  of  all  the  common  blessings 
of  life,  distinct  from  their  own  gratification:  is  benevo- 
lence less  the  temper  of  tranquillity  and  freedom  than 
ambition  or  covetousness?  Does  the  benevolent  man 
appear  less  easy  with  himself,  from  his  love  to  his  neigh- 
bour? Does  he  less  relish  his  being?  Is  there  an\ 
peculiar  gloom  seated  on  his  face?  Is  his  mind  less 
open  to  entertainment,  to  any  particular  gratification? 
Nothing  is  more  manifest,  than  that  being  in  good 
humour,  which  is  benevolence  whilst  it  lasts,  is  itself 
the  temper  of  satisfaction  and  enjoyment. 

Suppose  then  a  man  sitting  down  to  consider  how  he 
might  become  most  easy  to  himself,  and  attain  the 
greatest  pleasure  he  could;  all  that  which  is  his  real 
natural  happiness.    This  can  only  consist  in  the  enjoy- 


134  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  [Skr.  XI. 

ment  of  those  objects,  which  are  by  nature  adapted  to 
our  several  faculties.  These  particular  enjoyments  make 
up  the  sum  total  of  our  happiness:  and  they  are  supposed 
to  arise  from  riches,  honours,  and  the  gratification  of 
sensual  appetites:  be  it  so:  yet  none  profess  themselves 
so  completely  happy  in  these  enjoyments,  but  that  there 
is  room  left  in  the  mind  of  others,  if  they  were  presented 
to  them:  nay,  these,  as  much  as  they  engage  us,  are  not 
thought  so  high,  but  that  human  nature  is  capable  even 
of  greater.  Now  there  have  been  persons  in  all  ages, 
who  have  professed  that  they  found  satisfaction  in  the 
exercise  of  charity,  in  the  love  of  their  neighbour,  in 
endeavouring  to  promote  the  happiness  of  all  they  had 
to  do  with,  and  in  the  pursuit  of  what  is  just,  and  right, 
and  good,  as  the  general  bent  of  their  mind,  and  end  of 
their  life;  and  that  doing  an  action  of  baseness  or  cruelty, 
would  be  as  great  violence  to  their  self,  as  much  break- 
ing in  upon  their  nature,  as  any  external  force.  Persons 
of  this  character  would  add,  if  they  might  be  heard,  that 
they  consider  themselves  as  acting  in  the  view  of  an  in- 
finite Being,  who  is  in  a  much  higher  sense  the  object  of 
reverence  and  of  love,  than  all  the  world  besides;  and 
therefore  they  could  have  no  more  enjoyment  from  a 
wicked  action  done  under  his  eye,  than  the  persons  to 
whom  they*  are  making  their  apology  could,  if  all  man- 
kind were  the  spectators  of  it;  and  that  the  satisfaction 
of  approving  themselves  to  his  unerring  judgment,  to 
whom  they  thus  refer  all  their  actions,  is  a  more  con- 
tinued settled  satisfaction  than  any  this  world  can  afford; 
as  also  that  they  have,  no  less  than  others,  a  mind  free 
and  open  to  all  the  common  innocent  gratifications  of  i* 
such  as  they  are.  And  if  we  go  no  further,  does  there 
appear  any  absurdity  in  this?  Will  any  one  take  upon 
him  to  say,  that  a  man  cannot  find  his  account  in  this 
general  course  of  life,  as  much  as  in  the  most  unbounded 
ambition,  and  the  excesses  of  pleasure?  Or  that  such  a 
person  has  not  consulted  so  well  for  himself,  for  the 
satisfaction  and  peace  of  his  own  mind,  as  the  ambitious 
or  dissolute  man?  And  though  the  consideration,  that 
God  himself  will  in  the  end  justify  their  taste,  and  sup- 
port their  cause,  is  not  formally  to  be  insisted  upon  here; 


Skk.  XL]  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  135 

yet  thus  much  comes  in,  that  all  enjoyments  whatever 
are  much  more  clear  and  unmixed  from  the  assurance 
that  they  will  end  well.  Is  it  certain  then  that  there  is 
nothing  in  these  pretensions  to  happiness?  especially 
when  there  are  not  wanting  persons,  who  have  supported 
themselves  with  satisfactions  of  this  kind  in  sickness, 
poverty,  disgrace,  and  in  the  very  pangs  of  death;  where- 
as it  is  manifest  all  other  enjoyments  fail  in  these  cir- 
cumstances. This  surely  looks  suspicious  of  having 
somewhat  in  it.  Self-love  methinks  should  be  alarmed. 
May  she  not  possibly  pass  over  greater  pleasures,  than 
those  she  is  so  wholly  taken  up  with? 

The  short  of  the  matter  is  no  more  than  this.  Hap- 
piness consists  in  the  gratification  of  certain  affections, 
appetites,  passions,  with  objects  which  are  by  nature 
adapted  to  them.  Self-love  may  indeed  set  us  on  work 
to  gratify  these;  but  happiness  or  enjoyment  has  no 
immediate  connexion  with  self-love,  but  arises  from  such 
gratification  alone.  Love  of  our  neighbour  is  one  of 
those  affections.  This,  considered  as  a  virtuous  principle, 
is  gratified  by  a  consciousness  of  endeavouring  to  promote 
the  good  of  others;  but  considered  as  natural  affection, 
its  gratification  consists  in  the  actual  accomplishment  of 
this  endeavour.  Now  indulgence  or  gratification  of  this 
affection,  whether  in  that  consciousness,  or  this  accom- 
plishment, has  the  same  respect  to  interest,  as  indulgence 
of  any  other  affection;  they  equally  proceed  from  or  do 
not  proceed  from  self-love,  they  equally  include  or 
equally  exclude  this  principle.  Thus  it  appears,  that 
benevolence  and  the  pursuits  of  public  good  hath  at  least  as 
great  respect  to  self-love  and  the  pursuits  of  private  good, 
as  any  other  particular  passions,  and  their  respective 
pursuits. 

Neither  is  covetousness,  whether  as  a  temper  or  pur- 
suit, any  exception  to  this.  For  if  by  covetousness  is 
meant  the  desire  and  pursuit  of  riches  for  their  own  sake, 
without  any  regard  to,  or  consideration  of,  the  uses  of 
them;  this  hath  as  little  to  do  with  self-love,  as  benevo- 
lence hath.  But  by  this  word  is  usually  meant,  not  such 
madness  and  total  distraction  of  mind,  but  immoderate 
affection  to  and  pursuit  of  riches  as  possessions  in  order 


136 


UPON   THE   LOVE  OF 


Sso.  XI. 


to  some  further  end;  namely,  satisfaction,  interest,  or 
good.  This-  therefore  is  not  a  particular  affection,  or 
particular  pursuit,  but  it  is  the  general  principle  of  self- 
love,  and  the  general  pursuit  of  our  own  interest;  for 
which  reason,  the  word  selfish  is  by  every  one  appro- 
priated to  this  temper  and  pursuit.  Now  as  it  is  ridicul- 
ous to  assert,  that  self-love  and  the  love  of  our  neighbour 
are  the  same:  so  neither  is  it  asserted,  that  following 
these  different  affections  hath  the  same  tendency  and 
respect  to  our  own  interest.  The  comparison  is  not  be- 
tween self-love  and  the  love  of  our  neighbour;  between 
pursuit  of  our  own  interest,  and  the  interest  of  others: 
but  between  the  several  particular  affections  in  human 
nature  towards  external  objects,  as  one  part  of  the  com- 
parison; and  the  one  particular  affection  to  the  good  of 
our  neighbour,  as  the  other  part  of  it:  and  it  has  been 
shown,  that  all  these  have  the  same  respect  to  self-love 
and  private  interest. 

There  is  indeed  frequently  an  inconsistence  or  inter- 
fering between  self-love  or  private  interest,  and  the 
several  particular  appetites,  passions,  affections,  or  the 
pursuits  they  lead  to.  But  this  competition  or  interfer- 
ing is  merely  accidental;  and  happens  much  oftener  be- 
tween pride,  revenge,  sensual  gratifications,  and  private 
interest,  than  between  private  interest  and  benevolence. 
For  nothing  is  more  common,  than  to  see  men  give 
themselves  up  to  a  passion  or  an  affection  to  their  known 
prejudice  and  ruin,  and  in  direct  contradiction  to  mani- 
fest and  real  interest,  and  the  loudest  calls  of  self-love: 
whereas  the  seeming  competitions  and  interfering,  be- 
tween benevolence  and  private  interest,  relate  much 
more  to  the  materials  or  means  of  enjoyment,  than  to 
enjoyment  itself.  There  is  often  an  interfering  in  the 
former,  when  there  is  none  in  the  latter.  Thus  as  to 
riches:  so  much  money  as  a  man  gives  away,  so  much 
less  will  remain  in  his  possession.  Here  is  a  real  interfer- 
ing. But  though  a  man  cannot  possibly  give  without 
lessening  his  fortune,  yet  there  are  multitudes  might  give 
without  lessening  their  own  enjoyment;  because  they 
may  have  more  than  they  can  turn  to  any  real  use  or 
advantage  to  themselves.    Thus,  the  more  thought  and 


Su«.  X!.J  DUR  NEIGHBOUR.  137 

time  any  one  employs  about  the  interests  and  good  of 
others,  iie  must  necessarily  have  less  to  attend  his  own; 
but  he  may  have  so  ready  and  large  a  supply  of  his  own 
wants,  that  such  thought  might  be  really  useless  to  him- 
self, though  of  great  service  and  assistance  to  others. 

The  general  mistake,  that  there  is  some  greater  incon- 
sistence between  endeavouring  to  promote  the  good  of 
another  and  self-interest,  than  between  self-interest  and 
pursuing  any  thing  else,  seems,  as  hath  already  been 
hinted,  to  arise  from  our  notions  of  property;  and  to  be 
carried  on  by  this  property's  being  supposed  to  be  itself 
our  happiness  or  good.  People  are  so  very  much  taken 
up  with  this  one  subject,  that  they  seem  from  it  to  have 
formed  a  general  way  of  thinking,  which  they  apply  to 
other  things  that  they  have  nothing  to  do  with.  Hence, 
in  a  confused  and  slight  way,  it  might  well  be  taken  for 
granted,  that  another's  having  no  interest  in  an  affection, 
(*.  e.  his  good  not  being  the  object  of  it,)  renders,  as  one 
may  speak,  the  proprietor's  interest  in  it  greater;  and 
that  if  another  had  an  interest  in  it,  this  would  render 
his  less,  or  occasion  that  such  affection  could  not  be  so 
friendly  to  self-love,  or  conducive  to  private  good,  as  an 
affection  or  pursuit  which  has  not  a  regard  to  the  good 
of  another.  This,  I  say,  might  be  taken  for  granted, 
whilst  it  was  not  attended  to,  that  the  object  of  every 
particular  affection  is  equally  somewhat  external  to  our- 
selves; and  whether  it  be  the  good  of  another  person,  or 
whether  it  be  any  other  external  thing,  makes  no  altera- 
tion with  regard  to  its  being  one's  own  affection,  and  the 
gratification  of  it  one's  own  private  enjoyment.  And  so 
far  as  it  is  taken  for  granted,  that  barely  having  the 
means  and  materials  of  enjoyment  is  what  constitutes 
interest  and  happiness;  that  our  interest  or  good  consists 
in  possessions  themselves,  in  having  the  property  of 
riches,  houses,  lands,  gardens,  not  in  the  enjoyment  of 
them;  so  far  it  will  even  more  strongly  be  taken  for 
granted,  in  the  way  already  explained,  that  an  affection's 
conducing  to  the  good  of  another,  must  even  necessarily 
occasion  it  to  conduce  less  to  private  good,  if  not  to  be 
positively  detrimental  to  it.  For,  if  property  and  happi- 
ness are  one  and  the  same  thin^,  as  by  increasing  the 


138  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  [S«.  XI 

property  of  another,  you  lessen  your  own  property,  so  by 
promoting  the  happiness  of  another,  you  must  lessen 
your  own  happiness.  But  whatever  occasion  the  mis- 
take. I  hope  it  has  been  fully  proved  to  be  one;  as  it  has 
been  proved,  that  there  is  no  peculiar  rivalship  or  com- 
petition between  self-love  and  benevolence;  that  as 
'.here  may  be  a  competition  between  these  two,  so  there 
may  also  between  any  particular  affection  whatever  and 
self-love;  that  every  particular  affection,  benevolence 
among  the  rest,  is  subservient  to  self-love,  by  being  the 
instrument  of  private  enjoyment;  and  that  in  one  respect 
benevolence  contributes  more  to  private  interest,  *.  e.  en- 
joyment or  satisfaction,  than  any  other  of  the  particular 
common  affections,  as  it  is  in  a  degree  its  own  gratifi- 
cation. 

And  to  all  these  things  may  be  added,  that  religion, 
from  whence  arises  our  strongest  obligation  to  benevo- 
lence, is  so  far  from  disowning  the  principle  of  self-love, 
that  it  often  addresses  itself  to  that  very  principle,  and 
always  to  the  mind  in  that  state  when  reason  presides: 
and  there  can  no  access  be  had  to  the  understanding, 
but  by  convincing  men,  that  the  course  of  life  we  would 
persuade  them  to  is  not  contrary  to  their  interest.  It 
may  be  allowed,  without  any  prejudice  to  the  cause 
of  virtue  and  religion,  that  our  ideas  of  happiness  and 
misery  are  of  all  our  ideas  the  nearest  and  most  impor- 
tant to  us;  that  they  will,  nay,  if  you  please,  that  they 
ought  to  prevail  over  those  of  order,  and  beauty,  and 
harmony,  and  proportion,  if  there  should  ever  be,  as  it  is 
impossible  there  ever  should  be,  any  inconsistence  be- 
tween them:  though  these  last,  too,  as  expressing  the 
fitness  of  actions,  are  real  as  truth  itself.  Let  it  be  al- 
lowed, though  virtue  or  moral  rectitude  does  indeed  con- 
sist in  affection  to  and  pursuit  of  what  is  right  and  good, 
as  such;  yet,  that  when  we  sit  down  in  a  cool  hour,  we 
can  neither  justify  to  ourselves  this  or  any  other  pursuit, 
till  we  are  convinced  that  it  will  be  for  our  happiness,  or 
at  least  not  contrary  to  it. 

Common  reason  and  humanity,  will  have  some  influ- 
ence upon  mankind,  whatever  becomes  of  speculations : 
but,  so  far  as  the  interests  of  virtue  depend  upon  the 


fca.Xl.]  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  139 

theory  of  it  being  secured  from  open  scorn,  so  far  its 
very  being  in  the  world  depends  upon  its  appearing  to 
have  no  contrariety  to  private  interest  and  self-love. 
The  foregoing  observations,  therefore,  it  is  hoped,  may 
have  gained  a  little  ground  in  favour  of  the  precept  be- 
fore us  ;  the  particular  explanation  of  which  shall  be  the 
subject  of  the  next  discourse. 

I  will  conclude  at  present,  with  observing  the  peculiar 
obligation  which  we  are  under  to  virtue  and  religion,  as 
enforced  in  the  verses  following  the  text,  in  the  epistle 
for  the  day,  from  our  Saviour's  coming  into  the  world. 
The  night  is  far  spent,  the  day  is  at  hand;  let  us  therefore 
cast  off  the  works  of  darkness,  and  let  us  put  on  the  armour 
of  light,  &c.  The  meaning  and  force  of  which  exhorta- 
tion is,  that  Christianity  lays  us  under  new  obligations 
to  a  good  life,  as  by  it  the  will  of  God  is  more  clearly 
revealed,  and  as  it  affords  additional  motives  to  the  prac- 
tice of  it,  over  and  above  those  which  arise  out  of  the 
nature  of  virtue  and  vice;  I  might  add,  as  our  Saviour 
has  set  us  a  perfect  example  of  goodness  in  our  own  na- 
ture. Now  love  and  charity  is  plainly  the  thing  in  which 
he  hath  placed  his  religion;  in  which,  therefore,  as  we 
have  any  pretence  to  the  name  of  Christians,  we  must 
place  ours.  He  hath  at  once  enjoined  it  upon  us  by 
way  of  command  with  peculiar  force;  and  by  his  exam- 
ple, as  having  undertaken  the  work  of  our  salvation  out 
of  pure  love  and  good-will  to  mankind.  The  endeavour 
to  set  home  this  example  upon  our  minds  is  a  very  pro- 
per employment  of  this  season,  which  is  bringing  on  the 
festival  of  his  birth:  which  as  it  may  teach  us  many  ex- 
cellent lessons  of  humility,  resignation,  and  obedience  to 
the  will  of  God;  so  there  is  none  it  recommends  with 
greater  authority,  force,  and  advantage,  than  this  of  love 
and  charity ;  since  it  was  for  us  men,  and  for  our  salva- 
tion, that  he  came  dozen  from  heaven,  and  was  incarnate, 
and  was  made  man;  that  he  might  teach  us  our  duty,  and 
more  especially  that  he  might  enforce  the  practice  of  it, 
reform  mankind,  and  finally  bring  us  to  that  eternal  sal' 
vat  ion,  of  which  he  is  the  Author  to  all  those  that  obey  him. 


140 


I7PON  THE  LOVE  Of 


SERMON  XIT. 

UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  NEIGHBOUR. 

And  if  there  be  any  other  commandment,  it  is  briefly  comprehended 
in  this  saying,  namely,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself— 
Rom.  xiii  9. 

Having  already  removed  the  prejudices  against  public 
spirit,  or  the  love  of  our  neighbour,  on  the  side  of  private 
interest  and  self-love;  I  proceed  to  the  particular  expla- 
nation of  the  precept  before  us,  by  showing,  Who  is  our 
neighbour :  In  ivhat  sense  we  are  required  to  love  him  as 
ourselves :  The  influence  such  love  would  have  upon  our 
behaviour  in  life :  and  lastly,  How  this  commandment  com- 
prehends in  it  all  others. 

I.  The  objects  and  due  extent  of  this  affection  will  be 
understood  by  attending  to  the  nature  of  it,  and  to  the 
nature  and  circumstances  of  mankind  in  this  world.  The 
love  of  our  neighbour  is  the  same  with  charity,  benevo- 
lence, or  good-will:  it  is  an  affection  to  the  good  and 
happiness  of  our  fellow  creatures.  This  implies  in  it  a 
disposition  to  produce  happiness:  and  this  is  the  simple 
notion  of  goodness,  which  appears  so  amiable  wherever 
we  meet  with  it.  From  hence  it  is  easy  to  see,  that  the 
perfection  of  goodness  consists  in  love  to  the  whole  uni- 
verse.   This  is  the  perfection  of  Almighty  God. 

But  as  man  is  so  much  limited  in  his  capacity,  as  so 
small  a  part  of  the  creation  comes  under  his  notice  and 
influence,  and  as  we  are  not  used  to  consider  things  in 
so  general  a  way;  it  is  not  to  be  thought  of,  that  the 
universe  should  be  the  object  of  benevolence  to  such 
creatures  as  we  are.  Thus  in  that  precept  of  our  Savi- 
our, Be  ye  perfect,  even  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven 
is  perfect*  the  perfection  of  the  divine  goodness  is  pro- 
posed to  our  imitation  as  it  is  promiscuous,  and  extends 
to  the  evil  as  well  as  the  good;  not  as  it  is  absolutely 
universal,  imitation  of  it  in  this  respect  being  plainly 
beyond  us.    The  object  is  too  vast.    For  this  reason 

*  Matt.  v  .  4M. 


8m.  XII.l  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  141 

moral  writers  also  have  substituted  a  less  general  object 
for  our  benevolence,  mankind.  But  this  likewise  is  an 
object  too  general,  and  very  much  out  of  our  view. 
Therefore  persons  more  practical  have,  instead  of  man- 
kind, put  our  country;  and  this  is  what  we  call  a  public 
spirit;  which  in  men  of  public  stations  is  the  character 
of  a  patriot.  But  this  is  speaking  to  the  upper  part  of 
the  world.  Kingdoms  and  governments  are  large;  and 
the  sphere  of  action  of  far  the  greatest  part  of  mankind 
is  much  narrower  than  the  government  they  live  under: 
or,  however,  common  men  do  not  consider  their  actions 
as  affecting  the  whole  community  of  which  they  are 
members.  There  plainly  is  wanting  a  less  general  and 
nearer  object  of  benevolence  for  the  bulk  of  men,  than 
that  of  their  country.  Therefore  the  scripture,  not  being 
a  book  of  theory  and  speculation,  but  a  plain  rule  of  life 
for  mankind,  has  with  the  utmost  possible  propriety  put 
the  principle  of  virtue  upon  the  love  of  our  neighbour; 
which  is  that  part  of  the  universe,  that  part  of  mankind, 
that  part  of  our  country,  which  comes  under  our  imme- 
diate notice,  acquaintance,  and  influence,  and  with  which 
we  have  to  do. 

This  is  plainly  the  true  account  or  reason,  why  our 
Saviour  places  the  principle  of  virtue  in  the  love  of  our 
neighbour;  and  the  account  itself  shows  who  are  compre- 
hended under  that  relation. 

II.  Let  us  now  consider  in  what  sense  we  are  com- 
manded to  love  our  neighbour  as  ourselves. 

This  precept,  in  its  first  delivery  by  our  Saviour,  is 
thus  introduced:  Thou  shall  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with 
all  thine  heart,  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength; 
and  thy  neighbour  as  thyself  '.  These  very  different  man- 
ners of  expression  do  not  lead  our  thoughts  to  the  same 
measure  or  degree  of  love,  common  to  both  objects ;  but 
to  one,  peculiar  to  each.  Supposing  then,  which  is  to 
be  supposed,  a  distinct  meaning  and  propriety  in  the 
words,  as  thyself;  the  precept  we  are  considering  will 
admit  of  any  of  these  senses:  that  we  bear  the  same  kind 
of  affection  to  our  neighbour,  as  we  do  to  ourselves:  or, 
that  the  love  we  bear  to  our  neighbour  should  have  some 
certain  proportion  or  other  to  self-love:  or,  lastly,  that  it 


142  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  (Ser.  XII 

should  bear  the  particular  proportion  of  equality,  that  it 
be  in  the  same  degree. 

First,  The  precept  may  be  understood  as  requiring 
only,  that  we  have  the  same  kind  of  affection  to  our 
fellow  creatures,  as  to  ourselves:  that,  as  every  man  has 
the  principle  of  self-love,  which  disposes  him  to  avoid 
misery,  and  consult  his  own  happiness;  so  we  shoulo 
cultivate  the  affection  of  good-will  to  our  neighbour,  and 
that  it  should  influence  us  to  have  the  same  kind  o! 
regard  to  him.  This  at  least  must  be  commanded:  and 
this  will  not  only  prevent  our  being  injurious  to  him,  but 
will  also  put  us  upon  promoting  his  good.  There  are 
blessings  in  life,  which  we  share  in  common  with  others; 
peace,  plenty,  freedom,  healthful  seasons.  But  real 
benevolence  to  our  fellow  creatures  would  give  us  the 
notion  of  a  common  interest  in  a  stricter  sense:  for  in 
the  degree  we  love  another,  his  interest,  his  joys  and 
sorrows,  are  our  own.  It  is  from  self-love  that  we  form 
the  notion  of  private  good,  and  consider  it  as  our  own: 
love  of  our  neighbour  would  teach  us  thus  to  appropriate 
to  ourselves  his  good  and  welfare,  to  consider  ourselves 
as  having  a  real  share  in  his  happiness.  Thus  the  prin- 
ciple of  benevolence  would  be  an  advocate  within  our 
own  breasts,  to  take  care  of  the  interests  of  our  fellow 
creatures  in  all  the  interfering  and  competitions  which 
cannot  but  be,  from  the  imperfection  of  our  nature,  and 
the  state  we  are  in.  It  would  likewise,  in  some  measure, 
lessen  that  interfering;  and  hinder  men  from  forming  so 
strong  a  notion  of  private  good,  exclusive  of  the  good  of 
others,  as  we  commonly  do.  Thus,  as  the  private  affec- 
tion makes  us  in  a  peculiar  manner  sensible  of  humanity, 
justice  or  injustice,  when  exercised  towards  ourselves; 
love  of  our  neighbour  would  give  us  the  same  kind  of 
sensibility  in  his  behalf.  This  would  be  the  greatest 
security  of  our  uniform  obedience  to  that  most  equitable 
rule ;  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  unto  you, 
do  ye  even  so  unto  t/iem. 

All  this  is  indeed  no  more  than  that  we  should  have  s 
real  love  to  our  neighbour:  but  then,  which  is  to  be  ob- 
served, the  words,  as  thyself,  express  this  in  the  mosi 
distinct  manner,  and  determine  the  precept  to  relate  tc 


XII.]  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  1 43 

the  affection  itself.  The  advantage,  which  this  principle 
of  benevolence  has  over  other  remote  considerations,  is 
that  it  is  itself  the  temper  of  virtue:  and  likewise,  that  it 
is  the  chief,  nay  the  only  effectual  security  of  our  per- 
forming the  several  offices  of  kindness  we  owe  to  our 
fellow  creatures.  When  from  distant  considerations 
men  resolve  upon  any  thing  to  which  they  have  no  liking, 
or  perhaps  an  averseness,  they  are  perpetually  finding 
out  evasions  and  excuses;  which  need  never  be  wanting, 
if  people  look  for  them:  and  they  equivocate  with  them- 
selves in  the  plainest  cases  in  the  world.  This  may  be 
in  respect  to  single  determinate  acts  of  virtue:  but  it 
comes  in  much  more,  where  the  obligation  is  to  a  gene- 
ral course  of  behaviour;  and  most  of  all,  if  it  be  such  as 
cannot  be  reduced  to  fixed  determinate  rules.  This 
observation  may  account  for  the  diversity  of  the  expres- 
sion, in  that  known  passage  of  the  prophet  Micah:  to  do 
justly,  and  to  love  mercy.  A  man's  heart  must  be  formed 
to  humanity  and  benevolence,  he  must  love  mercy,  other- 
wise he  will  not  act  mercifully  in  any  settled  course  ot 
behaviour.  As  consideration  of  the  future  sanctions  of 
religion  is  our  only  security  of  persevering  in  our  duty, 
in  cases  of  great  temptations:  so  to  get  our  heart  and 
temper  formed  to  a  love  and  liking  of  what  is  good,  is 
absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  our  behaving  rightly  in 
the  familiar  and  daily  intercourses  amongst  mankind. 

Secondly,  The  precept  before  us  may  be  understood 
to  require,  that  we  love  our  neighbour  in  some  certain 
'proportion  or  other,  according  as  we  love  ourselves. 
And  indeed  a  man's  character  cannot  be  determined  by 
the  love  he  bears  to  his  neighbour,  considered  absolutely: 
but  the  proportion  which  this  bears  to  self-love,  whether 
it  be  attended  to  or  not,  is  the  chief  thing  which  forms 
the  character,  and  influences  the  actions.  For,  as  the 
form  of  the  body  is  a  composition  of  various  parts;  so 
likewise  our  inward  structure  is  not  simple  or  uniform, 
but  a  composition  of  various  passions,  appetites,  affec- 
tions, together  with  rationality ;  including  in  this  last 
both  the  discernment  of  what  is  right,  and  a  disposition 
to  regulate  ourselves  by  it.  There  is  greater  variety  of 
parts  in  what  we  call  a  character,  than  there  are  features 


144  UPON  THE  LOV*.  OF  [Skr.  XII 

in  a  face:  and  the  morality  of  that  is  no  more  determined 
by  one  part,  than  the  beauty  or  deformity  of  this  is  by 
one  single  feature :  each  is  to  be  judged  of  by  all  the 
parts  or  features,  not  taken  singly,  but  together.  In  the 
inward  frame  the  various  passions,  appetites,  affections; 
stand  in  different  respects  to  each  other.  The  principles 
in  our  mind  may  be  contradictory,  or  checks  and  allays 
only,  or  incentives  and  assistants  to  each  other.  And 
principles,  which  in  their  nature  have  no  kind  of  con- 
trariety or  affinity,  may  yet  accidentally  be  each  other's 
allays  or  incentives. 

From  hence  it  comes  to  pass,  that  though  we  were 
able  to  look  into  the  inward  contexture  of  the  heart,  and 
see  with  the  greatest  exactness  in  what  degree  any  one 
principle  is  in  a  particular  man  ;  we  could  not  from 
thence  determine,  how  far  that  principle  would  go  to- 
wards forming  the  character,  or  what  influence  it  would 
have  upon  the  actions,  unless  we  could  likewise  discern 
what  other  principles  prevailed  in  him,  and  see  the  pro- 
portion which  that  one  bears  to  the  others.  Thus,  though 
two  men  should  have  the  affection  of  compassion  in  the 
same  degree  exactly  :  yet  one  may  have  the  principle 
of  resentment,  or  of  ambition  so  strong  in  him,  as  to 
prevail  over  that  of  compassion,  and  prevent  its  having 
any  influence  upon  his  actions;  so  that  he  may  deserve 
the  character  of  an  hard  or  cruel  man:  whereas  the  other 
having  compassion  in  just  the  same  degree  only,  yet 
having  resentment  or  ambition  m  a  lower  degree,  his 
compassion  may  prevail  over  them,  so  as  to  influence  his 
actions,  and  to  denominate  his  temper  compassionate. 
So  that,  how  strange  soever  it  may  appear  to  people  who 
do  not  attend  to  the  thing,  yet  it  is  quite  manifest,  that, 
when  we  say  one  man  is  more  resenting  or  compassionate 
than  another,  this  does  not  necessarily  imply  that  one 
has  the  principle  of  resentment  or  of  compassion  stronger 
ihan  the  other.  For  if  the  proportion,  which  resentment 
or  compassion  bears  to  other  inward  principles,  is  greater 
in  one  than  in  the  other;  this  is  itself  sufficient  to  deno- 
minate one  more  resenting  or  compassionate  than  the 
other. 

Further,  the  whole  system,  as  I  may  speak,  of  affec- 


Swi.  XJI.J  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  145 

tioris  (including  rationality),  which  constitute  the  heart, 
as  this  word  is  used  in  Scripture  and  on  moral  subjects, 
are  each  and  all  of  them  stronger  in  some  than  in  others. 
Now  the  proportion  which  the  two  general  affections, 
benevolence  and  self-love,  bear  to  each  other,  according 
to  this  interpretation  of  the  text,  denominates  men's 
character  as  to  virtue.  Suppose  then  one  man  to  have 
the  principle  of  benevolence  in  an  higher  degree  than 
another:  it  will  not  follow  from  hence,  that  his  general 
temper,  or  character,  or  actions,  will  be  more  benevolent  ^ 
than  the  other's.  For  he  may  have  self-love  in  such  a 
degree  as  quite  to  prevail  over  benevolence;  so  that  it 
may  have  no  influence  at  all  upon  his  actions ;  whereas 
benevolence  in  the  other  person,  though  in  a  lower  degree, 
may  yet  be  the  strongest  principle  in  his  heart;  and 
strong  enough  to  be  the  guide  of  his  actions,  so  as  to 
denominate  him  a  good  and  virtuous  man.  The  case  is 
here  as  in  scales:  it  is  not  one  weight,  considered  in 
itself,  which  determines  whether  the  scale  shall  ascend 
or  descend;  but  this  depends  upon  the  proportion  which 
that  one  weight  hath  to  the  other. 

It  being  thus  manifest  that  the  influence  which  bene- 
volence has  upon  our  actions,  and  how  far  it  goes  towards 
forming  our  character,  is  not  determined  by  the  degree 
itself  of  this  principle  in  our  mind;  but  by  the  propor- 
tion it  has  to  self-love  and  other  principles:  a  compari- 
son also  being  made  in  the  text  between  self-love  and 
the  love  of  our  neighbour;  these  joint  considerations 
afforded  sufficient  occasion  for  treating  here  of  that  pro- 
portion: it  plainly  is  implied  in  the  precept,  though  it 
should  be  questioned,  whether  it  be  the  exact  meaning 
of  the  words,  as  thyself. 

Love  of  our  neighbour  then  must  bear  some  proportion 
to  self-love,  and  virtue  to  be  sure  consists  in  the  due  pro- 
portion. What  this  due  proportion  is,  whether  as  a 
principle  in  the  mind,  or  as  exerted  in  actions,  can  be 
judged  of  only  from  our  nature  and  condition  in  this 
world.  Of  the  degree  in  which  affections  and  the  prin- 
ciples of  action,  considered  in  themselves,  prevail,  we 
have  no  measure :  let  us  then  proceed  to  the  course  of 
behaviour,  the  actions  they  produce. 

K 


146  UPON  THK  LOVE  OF  pn.  %IL 

Both  our  nature  and  condition  require,  that  each  par- 
ticular man  should  make  particular  provision  for  himself: 
and  the  inquiry,  what  proportion  benevolence  should  have 
to  self-love,  when  brought  down  to  practice,  will  be, 
what  is  a  competent  care  and  provision  for  ourselves. 
And  how  certain  soever  it  be,  that  each  man  must  deter- 
mine this  for  himself;  and  how  ridiculous  soever  it 
would  be,  for  any  to  attempt  to  determine  it  for  another: 
yet  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  the  proportion  is  real;  and 
that  a  competent  provision  has  a  bound;  and  that  it  can- 
not be  all  which  we  can  possibly  get  and  keep  within 
our  grasp,  without  legal  injustice.  Mankind  almost  uni- 
versally bring  in  vanity,  supplies  for  what  is  called  a  life 
of  pleasure,  covetousness,  or  imaginary  notions  of  supe- 
riority over  others,  to  determine  this  question :  but  every 
one  who  desires  to  act  a  proper  part  in  society,  would 
•do  well  to  consider,  how  far  any  of  them  come  in  to 
determine  it,  in  the  way  of  moral  consideration.  All 
that  can  be  said  is,  supposing,  what,  as  the  world  goes, 
is  so  much  to  be  supposed  that  is  scarce  to  be  mentioned, 
that  persons  do  not  neglect  what  they  really  owe  to 
themselves;  the  more  of  their  care  and  thought,  and  of 
their  fortune,  they  employ  in  doing  good  to  their  fellow 
creatures,  the  nearer  they  come  up  to  the  law  of  perfec- 
tion, Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself. 

Thirdly,  if  the  words,  as  thyself,  were  to  be  understood 
of  an  equality  of  affection;  it  would  not  be  attended  with 
those  consequences,  which  perhaps  may  be  thought  to 
follow  from  it.  Suppose  a  person  to  have  the  same  set- 
tled regard  to  others,  as  to  himself ;  that  in  every  deli- 
berate scheme  or  pursuit  he  took  their  interest  into  the 
account  in  the  same  degree  as  his  own,  so  far  as  an 
•equality  of  affection  would  produce  this:  yet  he  would  in 
fact,  and  ought  to  be,  much  more  taken  up  and  employed 
about  himself,  and  his  own  concerns,  than  about  others, 
and  their  interests.  For,  besides  the  one  common  affec- 
tion toward  himself  and  his  neighbour,  he  would  have 
several  other  particular  affections,  passions,  appetites, 
^hich  he  could  not  possibly  feel  in  common  both  for 
himself  and  others :  now  these  sensations  themselves 
very  much  employ  us ;  and  have  perhaps  as  great  influ- 


Sua.  XII.]  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  147 

ence  as  self-love.  So  far  indeed  as  self-love,  and  cool 
reflection  upon  what  is  for  our  interest,  would  set  us  on 
work  to  gain  a  supply  of  our  own  several  wants;  so  far 
the  love  of  our  neighbour  would  make  us  do  the  same 
for  him:  but  the  degree  in  which  we  are  put  upon  seek- 
ing and  making  use  of  the  means  of  gratification,  by  the 
feeling  of  those  affections,  appetites,  and  passions,  must 
necessarily  be  peculiar  to  ourselves. 

That  there  are  particular  passions  (suppose  shame, 
resentment,)  which  men  seem  to  have,  and  feel  in  com- 
mon, both  for  themselves  and  others,  makes  no  altera- 
tion in  respect  to  those  passions  and  appetites  which 
cannot  possibly  be  thus  felt  in  common.  From  hence 
(and  perhaps  more  things  of  the  like  kind  might  be 
mentioned)  it  follows,  that  though  there  were  an  equality 
of  affection  to  both,  yet  regard  to  ourselves,  would  be 
more  prevalent  than  attention  to  the  concerns  of  others. 

And  from  moral  considerations  it  ought  to  be  so,  sup- 
posing still  the  equality  of  affection  commanded:  because 
we  are  in  a  peculiar  manner,  as  I  may  speak,  intrusted 
with  ourselves;  and  therefore  care  of  our  own  interests, 
as  well  as  of  our  conduct,  particularly  belongs  to  us. 

To  these  things  must  be  added,  that  moral  obligations 
can  extend  no  further  than  to  natural  possibilities.  Now 
we  have  a  perception  of  our  own  interests,  like  consci- 
ousness of  our  own  existence,  which  we  always  carry 
about  with  us;  and  which,  in  its  continuation,  kind,  and 
degree,  seems  impossible  to  be  felt  in  respect  to  the  in- 
terests of  others. 

From  all  these  things  it  fully  appears,  that  though  we 
were  to  love  our  neighbour  in  the  same  degree  as  we 
love  ourselves,  so  far  as  this  is  possible;  yet  the  care  of 
ourselves,  of  the  individual,  would  not  be  neglected;  the 
apprehended  danger  of  which  seems  to  be  the  only  ob- 
jection against  understanding  the  precept  in  this  strict 
sense. 

III.  The  general  temper  of  mind  which  the  due  love 
of  our  neighbour  would  form  us  to,  and  the  influence  it 
would  have  upon  our  behaviour  in  life,  is  now  to  be 
considered. 

The  temper  and  behaviour  of  charity  is  explained  at 

K  2 


148  UPON    THE  LOVE  OF  [Ser.  Xft. 

large,  in  that  known  passage  of  St  Paul:*  Charity  suf- 
fereth  long,  and  is  kind;  charity  envieth  not,  doth  not 
behave  itself  unseemly,  seeketh  not  her  own,  thinketh  no 
evil,  beareth  all  things,  believeth  ail  things,  hopeth  all  things. 
As  to  the  meaning  of  the  expressions,  seeketh  not  her 
own,  thinketh  no  evil,  believeth  all,  things;  however  those 
expressions  may  be  explained  away,  this  meekness,  and 
in  some  degree  easiness  of  temper,  readiness  to  forego 
our  right  for  the  sake  of  peace,  as  well  as  in  the  way  of 
compassion,  freedom  from  mistrust,  and  disposition  to 
believe  well  of  our  neighbour,  this  general  temper,  I 
say,  accompanies,  and  is  plainly  the  effect  of  love  and 
good-will.  And,  though  such  is  the  world  in  which  we 
live,  that  experience  and  knowledge  of  it  not  only  may, 
but  must  beget  in  us  greater  regard  to  ourselves,  and 
doubtfulness  of  the  characters  of  others,  than  is  natural 
to  mankind;  yet  these  ought  not  to  be  carried  further 
than  the  nature  and  course  of  things  make  necessary. 
It  is  still  true,  even  in  the  present  state  of  things,  bad  as 
it  is,  that  a  real  good  man  had  rather  be  deceived,  than 
be  suspicious;  had  rather  forego  his  known  right,  than 
run  the  venture  of  doing  even  a  hard  thing.  This  is  the 
general  temper  of  that  charity,  of  which  the  apostle 
asserts,  that  if  he  had  it  not,  giving  his  body  to  be  burned 
would  avail  him  nothing ;  and  which  he  says  shall  never 
fail. 

The  happy  influence  of  this  temper  extends  to  every 
different  relation  and  circumstance  in  human  life.  It 
plainly  renders  a  man  better,  more  to  be  desired,  as 
to  all  the  respects  and  relations  we  can  stand  in  to 
each  other.  The  benevolent  man  is  disposed  to  make 
use  of  all  external  advantages  in  such  a  manner  as 
shall  contribute  to  the  good  of  others,  as  well  as  to  his 
own  satisfaction.  His  own  satisfaction  consists  in  this. 
He  will  be  easy  and  kind  to  his  dependents,  compas- 
sionate to  the  poor  and  distressed,  friendly  to  all  with 
whom  he  has  to  do.  This  includes  the  good  neighbour, 
parent,  master,  magistrate :  and  such  a  behaviour  would 
plainly  make  dependence,  inferiority,  and  even  servitude, 
easy.    So  that  a  good  or  charitable  man  of  superior  rank 

*  1  Cor.  jjti. 


Snu  XII. 


OUR  NEIGHBOUR. 


149 


in  wisdom,  fortune,  authority,  is  a  common  blessing  to 
the  place  he  iives  in:  happiness  grows  under  his  influ- 
ence. This  good  principle  in  inferiors  would  discover 
itself  in  paying  respect,  gratitude,  obedience,  as  due.  It 
were  therefore,  methinks,  one  just  way  of  trying  one's 
own  character,  to  ask  ourselves,  am  I  in  reality  a  better 
master  or  servant,  a  better  friend,  a  better  neighbour, 
tnan  such  and  such  persons;  whom,  perhaps,  I  may 
think  not  to  deserve  the  character  of  virtue  and  religion 
so  much  as  myself? 

And  as  to  the  spirit  of  party,  which  unhappily  prevails 
amongst  mankind,  whatever  are  t-he  distinctions  which 
serve  for  a  supply  to  it,  some  or  other  of  which  have 
obtained  in  all  ages  and  countries:  one  who  is  thus 
friendly  to  his  kind  will  immediately  make  due  allow- 
ances for  it,  as  what  cannot  but  be  amongst  such  crea- 
tures as  men,  in  such  a  world  as  this.  And  as  wrath 
and  fury  and  overbearing  upon  these  occasions  proceed, 
as  I  may  speak,  from  men's  feeling  only  on  their  own 
side:  so  a  common  feeling,  for  others  as  well  as  for  our- 
selves, would  render  us  sensible  to  this  truth,  which  it  is 
strange  can  have  so  little  influence ;  that  we  ourselves 
differ  from  others,  just  as  much  as  they  do  from  us.  I 
put  the  matter  in  this  way,  because  it  can  scarce  be 
expected  that  the  generality  of  men  should  see,  that  those 
things  which  are  made  the  occasions  of  dissension  and 
fomenting  the  party-spirit,  are  really  nothing  at  all:  but 
it  may  be  expected  from  all  people,  how  much  soever 
they  are  in  earnest  about  their  respective  peculiarities, 
that  humanity,  and  common  good-will  to  their  fellow 
creatures,  should  moderate  and  restrain  that  wretched 
spirit. 

This  good  temper  of  charity  likewise  would  prevent 
strife -and  enmity  arising  from  other  occasions:  it  would 
prevent  our  giving  just  cause  of  offence,  and  our  taking 
it  without  cause.  And  in  cases  of  real  injury,  a  good 
man  will  make  all  the  allowances  which  are  to  be  made; 
and,  without  any  attempts  of  retaliation,  he  will  only 
consult  his  own  and  other  men's  security  for  the  future, 
against  injustice  and  wrong. 

IV.  I  proceed  to  consider  lastly,  what  is  affirmed  of 


150  UPON  THE  IOVE  OF  TSeb.  XII 

the  precept  now  explained,  that  it  comprehends  in  it 
all  others ;  i.  e.  that  to  love  our  neighbour  as  ourselves 
includes  in  it  all  virtues. 

Now  the  way  in  which  every  maxim  of  conduct,  or 
general  speculative  assertion,  when  it  is  to  be  explained 
at  large,  should  be  treated,  is,  to  show  what  are  the  par- 
ticular truths  which  were  designed  to  be  comprehended 
under  such  a  general  observation,  how  far  it  is  strictly 
true;  and  then  the  limitations,  restrictions,  and  excep- 
tions, if  there  be  exceptions,  with  which  it  is  to  be  under- 
stood. But  it  is  only  the  former  of  these;  namely,  how 
far  the  assertion  in  the  text  holds,  and  the  ground  of 
the  pre-eminence  assigned  to  the  precept  of  it,  which  in 
strictness  comes  into  our  present  consideration. 

However,  in  almost  every  thing  that  is  said,  there  is 
somewhat  to  be  understood  beyond  what  is  explicitly  laid 
down,  and  which  we  of  course  supply ;  somewhat,  I  mean, 
which  would  not  be  commonly  called  a  restriction,  or 
limitation.  Thus,  when  benevolence  is  said  to  be  the 
sum  of  virtue,  it  is  not  spoken  of  as  a  blind  propension, 
but  as  a  principle  in  reasonable  creatures,  and  so  to  be 
directed  by  their  reason:  for  reason  and  reflection  come 
into  our  notion  of  a  moral  agent.  And  that  will  lead  us 
to  consider  distant  consequences,  as  well  as  the  immediate 
tendency  of  an  action :  it  will  teach  us,  that  the  care  of 
some  persons,  suppose  children  and  families,  is  parti- 
cularly committed  to  our  charge  by  Nature  and  Provi- 
dence; as  also  that  there  are  other  circumstances,  suppose 
friendship  or  former  obligations,  which  require  that  we 
do  good  to  some  preferably  to  others.  Reason,  con- 
sidered merely  as  subservient  to  benevolence,  as  assist- 
ing to  produce  the  greatest  good,  will  teach  us  to  have 
particular  regard  to  these  relations  and  circumstances; 
because  it  is  plainly  for  the  good  of  the  world  that  they 
should  be  regarded.  And  as  there  are  numberless  cases, 
in  which,  notwithstanding  appearances,  we  are  not  com- 
petent judges,  whether  a  particular  action  will  upon  the 
whole  do  good  or  harm;  reason  in  the  same  way  will 
teach  us  to  be  cautious  how  we  act  in  these  cases  of 
uncertainty.  It  will  suggest  to  our  consideration,  which 
is  the  safer  side ;  how  liable  we  are  to  be  led  wrong  by 


But.  XII  ]  °UR  NEIGHBOUR.  151 

passion  and  private  interest;  and  what  regard  is  due  to 
laws,  and  the  judgment  of  mankind.  All  these  things 
must  come  into  consideration,  were  it  only  in  order  to 
determine  which  way  of  acting  is  likely  to  produce  the 
greatest  good.  Thus,  upon  supposition  that  it  were  in 
the  strictest  sense  true,  without  limitation,  that  benevo- 
lence includes  in  it  all  virtues;  yet  reason  must  come  in 
as  its  guide  and  director,  in  order  to  attain  its  own  end, 
the  end  of  benevolence,  the  greatest  public  good.  Rea- 
son then  being  thus  included,  let  us  now  consider  the 
truth  of  the  assertion  itself. 

First,  It  is  manifest  that  nothing  can  be  of  consequence 
to  mankind  or  any  creature,  but  happiness.  This  then 
is  all  which  any  person  can,  in  strictness  of  speaking,  be 
said  to  have  a  right  to.  We  can  therefore  owe  no  man 
any  thing,  but  only  to  further  and  promote  his  happiness, 
according  to  our  abilities.  And  therefore  a  disposition 
and  endeavour  to  do  good  to  all  with  whom  we  have  to 
do,  in  the  degree  and  manner  which  the  different  rela- 
tions we  stand  in  to  them  require,  is  a  discharge  of  all 
the  obligations  we  are  under  to  them. 

As  human  nature  is  not  one  simple  uniform  thing, 
but  a  composition  of  various  parts,  body,  spirit,  appetites, 
particular  passions,  and  affections;  for  each  of  which 
reasonable  self-love  would  lead  men  to  have  due  regard, 
and  make  suitable  provision:  so  society  consists  of  vari- 
ous parts,  to  which  we  stand  in  different  respects  and 
relations;  and  just  benevolence  would  as  surely  lead  us 
to  have  due  regard  to  each  of  these,  and  behave  as  the 
respective  relations  require.  Reasonable  good-will,  and 
right  behaviour  towards  our  fellow  creatures,  are  in  a 
manner  the  same:  only  that  the  former  expresseth  the 
principle  as  it  is  in  the  mind;  the  latter,  the  principle  as 
it  were  become  external,  *.  e.  exerted  in  actions. 

And  so  far  as  temperance,  sobriety,  and  moderation  in 
sensual  pleasures,  and  the  contrary  vices,  have  any  re- 
spect to  our  fellow  creatures,  any  influence  upon  their 
quiet,  welfare,  and  happiness;  as  they  always  have  a 
real,  and  often  a  near  influence  upon  it;  so  far  it  is 
manifest  those  virtues  may  be  produced  by  the  love  of 
our  neighbour,  and  that  the  contrary  vices  would  be  pre- 


152 


UPON  THE  LOVE  OF 


[Skr.  XII. 


vented  by  it.    Indeed  if  men's  regard  to  themselves  will 

not  restrain  them  from  excess;  it  may  be  thought  little 
probable,  that  their  love  to  others  will  be  sufficient:  but 
the  reason  is,  that  their  love  to  others  is  not,  any  more 
than  their  regard  to  themselves,  just,  and  in  its  due 
degree.  There  are  however  manifest  instances  of  per- 
sons kept  sober  and  temperate  from  regard  to  their  affairs, 
and  the  welfare  of  those  who  depend  upon  them.  And 
it  is  obvious  to  every  one,  that  habitual  excess,  a  dissolute 
course  of  life,  implies  a  general  neglect  of  the  duties  we 
owe  towards  our  friends,  our  families,  and  our  country. 

From  hence  it  is  manifest  that  the  common  virtues, 
and  the  common  vices  of  mankind,  may  be  traced  up  to 
benevolence,  or  the  want  of  it.  And  this  entitles  the 
precept,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself,  to  the 
pre-eminence  given  to  it;  and  is  a  justification  of  the 
Apostle's  assertion,  that  all  other  commandments  are 
(omprehended  in  it;  whatever  cautions  and  restrictions* 
there  are,  which  might  require  to  be  considered,  if  we 
were  to  state  particularly  and  at  length,  what  is  virtue 
and  right  behaviour  in  mankind.  But, 

Secondly,  It  might  be  added,  that  in  a  higher  and 
more  general  way  of  consideration,  leaving  out  the  par- 

*  For  instance :  as  we  are  not  competent  judges,  what  is  upon  the  whole  for  the 
pood  of  the  world,  there  may  be  other  immediate  ends  appointed  us  to  pursue, 
besides  that  one  of  doing  good,  or  producing  happiness.  Though  the  good  of  the 
creation  be  the  only  end  of  the  Author  of  it,  yet  he  may  have  laid  us  under  particular 
obligations,  which  we  may  discern  and  feel  ourselves  under,  quite  distinct  from  a  per- 
ception, that  the  observance  or  violation  of  them  is  for  the  happiness  or  misery  of  our 
fellow  creatures.  And  this  is  in  fact  the  case.  For  there  are  certain  dispositions  of 
mind,  and  certain  actions,  which  are  in  themselves  approved  or  disapproved  by  man- 
kind, abstracted  from  the  consideration  of  their  tendency  to  the  happiness  or  misery 
•  f  the  world  ;  approved  or  disapproved  by  reflection,  by  that  principle  within,  which 
is  the  guide  of  life,  the  judge  of  right  and  wrong.  Numberless  instances  of  this  kind 
imight  be  mentioned.  There  are  pieces  of  treachery,  which  in  themselves  appear 
base  and  detestable  to  every  one.  There  are  actions,  which  perhaps  can  scarce  have 
.any  other  general  name  given  theni,  than  indecencies,  which  yet  are  odious  and 
shocking  to  human  nature.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  meanness,  a  little  mind  ; 
which,  as  it  is  quite  distinct  from  incapacity,  so  it  raises  a  dislike  and  disapprobation 
quite  different  from  that  contempt,  which  men  are  too  apt  to  have,  of  mere  folly. 
On  the  other  hand  ;  what  we  call  greatness  of  mind  is  the  object  of  another  sort  oi 
approbation,  than  superior  understanding.  Fidelity,  honour,  strict  justice,  are  them- 
selves approved  in  the  highest  degree,  abstracted  from  the  consideration  of  their 
tendency.  Now,  whether  it  be  thought  that  each  of  these  are  connected  with  bene- 
volence in  our  nature,  and  so  may  be  considered  as  the  same  thing  with  it ;  of 
whether  some  of  them  be  thought  an  inferior  kind  of  virtues  and  vices,  somewhat 
like  natural  beauties  and  deformities;  or  la.-tly,  plain  exceptions  to  the  general  rule; 
Ihus  much  however  is  certain,  that  the  things  now  instanced  in,  and  uumoerlesa 
others,  are  approved  or  disapproved  by  mankind  in  general,  in  quite  another  viev» 
than  as  conducive  to  the  happiness  or  misery  of  the  world. 


Sen.  XII.]  OUR  NEIGHBOUR.  153 

ticular  nature  of  creatures,  and  the  particular  circum- 
stances in  which  they  are  placed,  benevolence  seems  in 
the  strictest  sense  to  include  in  it  all  that  is  good  and 
worthy;  all  that  is  good,  which  we  have  any  distinct 
particular  notion  of.  We  have  no  clear  conception  of 
any  positive  moral  attribute  in  the  supreme  Being,  but 
what  may  be  resolved  up  into  goodness.  And,  if  we 
consider  a  reasonable  creature  or  moral  agent,  without 
regard  to  the  particular  relations  and  circumstances  in 
which  he  is  placed;  we  cannot  conceive  any  thing  else 
to  come  in  towards  determining  whether  he  is  to  be 
ranked  in  a  higher  or  lower  class  of  virtuous  beings,  but 
the  higher  or  lower  degree  in  which  that  principle,  and 
what  is  manifestly  connected  with  it,  prevail  in  him. 

That  which  we  more  strictly  call  piety,  or  the  love  of 
God,  and  which  is  an  essential  part  of  a  right  temper, 
some  may  perhaps  imagine  no  way  connected  with  bene- 
volence: yet  surely  they  must  be  connected,  if  there  be 
indeed  in  being  an  object  infinitely  good.  Human  nature 
is  so  constituted,  that  every  good  affection  implies  the 
love  of  itself;  i.  e.  becomes  the  object  of  a  new  affection 
in  the  same  person.  Thus,  to  be  righteous,  implies  in  it 
the  love  of  righteousness;  to  be  benevolent,  the  love  of 
benevolence;  to  be  good,  the  love  of  goodness;  whether 
this  righteousness,  benevolence,  or  goodness,  be  viewed 
as  in  our  own  mind,  or  in  another's:  and  the  love  or 
God  as  a  being  perfectly  good,  is  the  love  of  perfect 
goodness  contemplated  in  a  being  or  person.  Thus 
morality  and  religion,  virtue  and  piety,  will  at  last  neces- 
sarily coincide,  run  up  into  one  and  the  same  point,  and 
love  will  be  in  all  senses  the  end  of  the  commandment. 

0  Almighty  God,  inspire  us  with  thii>  divine  principle; 
kill  in  us  all  the  seeds  of  envy  and  ill-  will;  and  help  us, 
by  cultivating  within  ourselves  the  love  of  our  neighbour, 
to  improve  in  the  love  of  thee.  Thou  hast  placed  in  us 
various  kindreds,  friendships,  and  relations,  as  the  school 
of  discipline  for  our  affections:  help  us,  by  the  due  ex- 
ercise of  them,  to  improve  to  perfection;  till  all  partial 
affection  be  lost  in  that  entire  universal  one,  and  thou,  0 
God,  shalt  be  all  in  all. 


154 


UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD. 


[Sn.  X1IL 


SERMON  XIII.  XIV. 

UPON   THE   LOVE   OF  GOD. 

Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all 
thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind. — Matt.  xxii.  37. 

Every  body  knows,  you  therefore  need  only  just  be  put 
in  mind,  that  there  is  such  a  thing,  as  having  so  great 
horror  of  one  extreme,  as  to  run  insensibly  and  of  course 
into  the  contrary ;  and  that  a  doctrine's  having  been  a 
shelter  for  enthusiasm,  or  made  to  serve  the  purposes  of 
superstition,  is  no  proof  of  the  falsity  of  it :  truth  or  right 
being  somewhat  real  in  itself,  and  so  not  to  be  judged  of 
by  its  liableness  to  abuse,  or  by  its  supposed  distance 
from  or  nearness  to  error.  It  may  be  sufficient  to  have 
mentioned  this  in  general,  without  taking  notice  of  the 
particular  extravagancies,  which  have  been  vented  under 
the  pretence  or  endeavour  of  explaining  the  love  of 
God  ;  or  how  manifestly  we  are  got  into  the  contrary 
extreme,  under  the  notion  of  a  reasonable  religion  ;  so 
very  reasonable,  as  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  heart 
and  affections,  if  these  words  signify  any  thing  but  the 
faculty  by  which  we  discern  speculative  truth. 

By  the  love  of  God,  I  would  understand  all  those 
regards,  all  those  affections  of  mind  which  are  due 
immediately  to  him  from  such  a  creature  as  man,  and 
which  rest  in  him  as  their  end.  As  this  does  not  include 
servile  fear ;  so  neither  will  any  other  regards,  how 
reasonable  soever,  which  respect  any  thing  out  of  or 
besides  the  perfection  of  divine  nature,  come  into  consider- 
ation here.  But  all  fear  is  not  excluded,  because,  his 
displeasure  is  itself  the  natural  proper  object  of  fear. 
Reverence,  ambition  of  his  love  and  approbation,  delight 
in  the  hope  or  consciousness  of  it,  come  likewise  into  this 
definition  of  the  love  of  God  ;  because  he  is  the  natural 
object  of  all  those  affections  or  movements  of  mind,  as 
really  as  he  is  the  object  of  the  affection,  which  is  in  the 
strictest  sense  called  love ;  and  all  of  them  equally  rest 


Sm.  XIII.l  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  .155 

in  him,  as  their  end.  And  they  may  all  be  understood 
to  be  implied  in  these  words  of  our  Saviour,  without 
putting  any  force  upon  them  :  for  he  is  speaking  of  the 
love  of  God  and  our  neighbour,  as  containing  the  whole 
of  piety  and  virtue. 

It  is  plain  that  the  nature  of  man  is  so  constituted,  as 
to  feel  certain  affections  upon  the  sight  or  contemplation 
of  certain  objects.  Now  the  very  notion  of  affection  im- 
plies resting  in  its  object  as  an  end.  And  the  particular 
affection  to  good  characters,  reverence  and  moral  love 
of  them,  is  natural  to  all  those  who  have  any  degree  ot 
real  goodness  in  themselves.  This  will  be  illustrated  by 
the  description  of  a  perfect  character  in  a  creature  ;  and 
by  considering  the  manner,  in  which  a  good  man  in  his 
presence  would  be  affected  towards  such  a  character. 
He  would  of  course  feel  the  affections  of  love,  rever- 
ence, desire  of  his  approbation,  delight  in  the  hope  or 
consciousness  of  it.  And  surely  all  this  is  applicable, 
and  may  be  brought  up  to  that  Being,  who  is  infinitely 
more  than  an  adequate  object  of  all  those  affections  : 
whom  we  are  commanded  to  love  with  ail  our  heart,  with 
all  our  soul,  and  with  all  our  mind.  And  of  these  regards 
towards  Almighty  God,  some  are  more  particularly  suit- 
able to  and  becoming  so  imperfect  a  creature  as  man,  in 
this  mortal  state  we  are  passing  through  ;  and  some  of 
them,  and  perhaps  other  exercises  of  the  mind,  will  be 
the  employment  and  happiness  of  good  men  in  a  state 
of  perfection. 

This  is  a  general  view  of  what  the  following  discourse 
will  contain.  And  it  is  manifest  the  subject  is  a  real 
one  :  there  is  nothing  in  it  enthusiastical  or  unreasonable. 
And  if  it  be  indeed  at  all  a  subject,  it  is  one  of  the  utmost 
importance. 

As  mankind  have  a  faculty  by  which  they  discern 
speculative  truth;  so  we  have  various  affections  towards 
external  objects.  Understanding  and  temper,  reason 
and  affection,  are  as  distinct  ideas,  as  reason  and  hunger; 
and  one  would  think  could  no  more  be  confounded.  It 
is  by  reason  that  we  get  the  ideas  of  several  objects  of 
our  affections :  but  in  these  cases  reason  and  affection 
are  no  more  the  same,  than  sight  of  a  particular  object, 


156  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  [Skb.  XIII 

and  the  pleasure  or  uneasiness  consequent  thereupon, 
are  the  same.  Now,  as  reason  tends  to  and  rests  in  the 
discernment  of  truth,  the  object  of  it ;  so  the  very  nature 
of  affection  consists  in  tending  towards,  and  resting  in, 
its  objects  as  an  end.  We  do  indeed  often  in  common 
language  say,  that  things  are  loved,  desired,  esteemed, 
not  for  themselves,  but  for  somewhat  further,  some- 
what out  of  and  beyond  them :  yet,  in  these  cases, 
whoever  will  attend,  will  see,  that  these  things  are  not 
in  reality  the  objects  of  the  affections,  i.  e.  are  not  loved, 
desired,  esteemed,  but  the  somewhat  further  and  beyond 
them.  If  we  have  no  affections  which  rest  in  what  are 
called  their  objects,  then  what  is  called  affection,  love, 
desire,  hope,  in  human  nature,  is  only  an  uneasiness  in 
being  at  rest ;  an  unquiet  disposition  to  action,  progress, 
pursuit,  without  end  or  meaning.  But  if  there  be  any 
such  thing  as  delight  in  the  company  of  one  person, 
rather  than  of  another;  whether  in  the  way  of  friendship, 
or  mirth  and  entertainment,  it  is  all  one,  if  it  be  without 
respect  to  fortune,  honour,  or  increasing  our  stores  of 
knowledge,  or  any  thing  beyond  the  present  time  ;  here 
is  an  instance  of  an  affection  absolutely  resting  in  its 
objects  as  its  end,  and  being  gratified  in  the  same  way  as 
the  appetite  of  hunger  is  satisfied  with  food.  Yet  nothing 
is  more  common  than  to  hear  it  asked,  what  advantage 
a  man  hath  in  such  a  course,  suppose  of  study,  particulav 
friendships,  or  in  any  other :  nothing,  I  say,  is  more  com- 
mon than  to  hear  such  a  question  put  in  a  way  which 
supposes  no  gain,  advantage,  or  interest,  but  as  a  means 
to  somewhat  further :  and  if  so,  then  there  is  no  such 
thing  at  all  as  real  interest,  gain,  or  advantage.  This  is 
the  same  absurdity  with  respect  to  life,  as  infinite  series 
of  effects  without  a  cause  is  in  speculation.  The  gain, 
advantage,  or  interest,  consists  in  the  delight  itself,  aris- 
ing from  such  a  faculty's  having  its  object :  neither  is 
there  any  such  thing  as  happiness  or  enjoyment,  but 
what  arises  from  hence.  The  pleasures  of  hope  and  of 
reflection  are  not  exceptions  :  the  former  being  only  this 
happiness  anticipated  ;  the  latter,  the  same  happiness 
enjoyed  over  again  after  its  time.  And  even  the 
general  expectation  of  future  happiness  can  afford 


Sk.r.  XIII.]  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  157 

satisfaction,  only  as  it  is  a  present  object  to  the  principle 
of  self-love. 

It  was  doubtless  intended,  that  life  should  be  very 
much  a  pursuit  to  the  gross  of  mankind.  But  this  is 
carried  so  much  further  than  is  reasonable,  that  what 
gives  immediate  satisfaction,  i.  e.  our  present  interest,  is 
scarce  considered  as  our  interest  at  all.  It  is  inventions 
which  have  only  a  remote  tendency  towards  enjoyment, 
perhaps  but  a  remote  tendency  towards  gaining  the 
means  only  of  enjoyment,  which  are  chiefly  spoken  of 
as  useful  to  the  world.  And  though  this  way  of  think- 
ing were  just  with  respect  to  the  imperfect  state  we  are 
now  in,  where  we  know  so  little  of  satisfaction  without 
satiety;  yet  it  must  be  guarded  against,  when  we  are  con- 
sidering the  happiness  of  a  state  of  perfection  ;  which  hap- 
piness being  enjoyment  and  not  hope,  must  necessarily 
consist  in  this,  that  our  affections  have  their  objects,  and 
rest  in  those  objects  as  an  end,  i.  e.  be  satisfied  with  them. 
This  will  further  appear  in  the  sequel  of  this  discourse. 

Of  the  several  affections,  or  inward  sensations,  which 
particular  objects  excite  in  man,  there  are  some,  the 
having  of  which  implies  the  love  of  them,  when  they  are 
reflected  upon.*  This  cannot  be  said  of  all  our  affec- 
tions, principles,  and  motives  of  action.  It  were  ridi- 
culous to  assert,  that  a  man  upon  reflection  hath  the 
same  kind  of  approbation  of  the  appetite  of  hunger,  or 
the  passion  of  fear,  as  he  hath  of  good-will  to  his  fellow 
creatures.  To  be  a  just,  a  good,  a  righteous  man,  plainly 
carries  with  it  a  peculiar  affection  to  or  love  of  justice, 
goodness,  righteousness,  when  these  principles  are  the 
objects  of  contemplation.  Now  if  a  man  approves  of, 
or  hath  an  affection  to,  any  principle  in  and  for  itself, 
incidental  things  allowed  for,  it  will  be  the  same  whether 
he  views  it  in  his  own  mind,  or  in  another ;  in  himself, 
or  in  his  neighbour.  This  is  the  account  of  our  approba- 
tion of,  our  moral  love  and  affection  to  good  characters  ; 
which  cannot  but  be  in  those  who  have  any  degrees 

*  St  Austin  observes,  Amor  ipse  ordinate  amandus  est,  quo  bene  amatur  quod 
amandum  est,  ut  sit  in  nobis  virtus  qui  vivitur  bene,  i.  e.  The  affection  which  we 
rightly  have  for  what  is  lovely,  must  ordinate  Justly,  in  due  manner  and  proportion, 
become  the  object  of  a  new  affection,  or  be  itself  beloved,  in  order  to  our  being  endued 
with  that  virtue  which  is  the  principle  of  a  good  life.    Civ.  Dei.  1.  xv.  c.  22. 


158  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  [Ser.  XIII. 

of  real  goodness  in  themselves,  and  who  discern  and 
take  notice  of  the  same  principle  in  others. 

From  observation  of  what  passes  within  ourselves,  our 
own  actions,  and  the  behaviour  of  others,  the  mind  may 
carry  on  its  reflections  as  far  as  it  pleases  ;  much  beyond 
what  we  experience  in  ourselves,  or  discern  in  our  fellow 
creatures.  It  may  go  on,  and  consider  goodness  as  become 
a  uniform  continued  principle  of  action,  as  conducted  by 
reason,  and  forming  a  temper  and  character  absolutely 
good  and  perfect,  which  is  in  a  higher  sense  excellent, 
and  proportionably  the  object  of  love  and  approbation. 

Let  us  then  suppose  a  creature  perfect  according  to 
his  created  nature ;  let  his  form  be  human,  and  his  ca- 
pacities no  more  than  equal  to  those  of  the  chief  of  men  : 
goodness  shall  be  his  proper  character ;  with  wisdom  to 
direct  it,  and  power  within  some  certain  determined 
sphere  of  action  to  exert  it ;  but  goodness  must  be  the 
simple  actuating  principle  within  him  ;  this  being  the 
moral  quality  which  is  amiable,  or  the  immediate  object 
of  love  as  distinct  from  other  affections  of  approbation. 
Here  then  is  a  finite  object  for  our  mind  to  tend  towards, 
to  exercise  itself  upon :  a  creature,  perfect  according  to 
his  capacity,  fixed,  steady,  equally  unmoved  by  weak  pity 
or  more  weak  fury  and  resentment ;  forming  the  justest 
scheme  of  conduct ;  going  on  undisturbed  in  the  execution 
of  it,  through  the  several  methods  of  severity  and  reward, 
towards  his  end,  namely,  the  general  happiness  of  all  with 
whom  he  hath  to  do,  as  in  itself  right  and  valuable.  This 
character,  though  uniform  in  itself,  in  its  principle,  yet 
exerting  itself  in  different  ways,  or  considered  in 
different  views,  may  by  its  appearing  variety  move  different 
affections.  Thus,  the  severity  of  justice  would  not  affect  us 
in  the  same  way  as  an  act  of  mercy  :  the  adventitious 
qualities  of  wisdom  and  power  may  be  considered  in 
themselves:  and  even  the  strength  of  mind,  which  this 
immoveable  goodness  supposes,  may  likewise  be  viewed 
as  an  object  of  contemplation,  distinct  from  the  goodness 
itself.  Superior  excellence  of  any  kind,  as  well  as  superior 
wisdom  and  power,  is  the  object  of  awe  and  reverence  to 
all  creatures,  whatever  their  moral  character  be:  but  so 
far  as  creatures  of  the  lowest  rank  were  good,  so  far  the 


6kb.  XIII.]  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  159 

view  of  this  character,  as  simply  good,  must  appear  ami- 
able to  them,  be  the  object  of,  or  beget  love.  Further, 
suppose  we  were  conscious,  that  this  superior  person  so 
far  approved  of  us,  that  we  had  nothing  servilely  to  fear 
from  him;  that  he  was  really  our  friend,  and  kind  and 
good  to  us  in  particular,  as  he  had  occasionally  inter- 
course with  us:  we  must  be  other  creatures  than  we  are, 
or  we  could  not  but  feel  the  same  kind  of  satisfaction 
and  enjoyment  (whatever  would  be  the  degree  of  it) 
from  this  higher  acquaintance  and  friendship,  as  we  feel 
from  common  ones;  the  intercourse  being  real,  and  the 
persons  equally  present,  in  both  cases.  We  should  have 
a  more  ardent  desire  to  be  approved  by  his  better  judg- 
ment, and  a  satisfaction  in  that  approbation  of  the  same 
sort  with  what  would  be  felt  in  respect  to  common  per- 
sons, or  be  wrought  in  us  by  their  presence. 

Let  us  now  raise  the  character,  and  suppose  this  crea- 
ture, for  we  are  still  going  on  with  the  supposition  of  a 
creature,  our  proper  guardian  and  governor;  that  we 
were  in  a  progress  of  being  towards  somewhat  further; 
and  that  his  scheme  of  government  was  too  vast  for  our 
capacities  to  comprehend:  remembering  still  that  he  is 
perfectly  good,  and  our  friend  as  well  as  our  governor. 
Wisdom,  power,  goodness,  accidentally  viewed  any 
where,  would  inspire  reverence,  awe,  love:  and  as  these 
affections  would  be  raised  in  higher  or  lower  degrees,  in 
proportion  as  we  had  occasionally  more  or  less  intercourse 
with  the  creature  endued  with  those  qualities;  so  this 
further  consideration  and  knowledge,  that  he  was  our 
proper  guardian  and  governor,  would  much  more  bring 
these  objects  and  qualities  home  to  ourselves;  teach  us 
they  had  a  greater  respect  to  us  in  particular,  that  we  had  a 
higher  interest  in  that  wisdom  and  power  and  goodness. 
We  should,  with  joy,  gratitude,  reverence,  love,  trust, 
and  dependence,  appropriate  the  character,  as  what  we 
had  a  right  in ;  and  make  our  boast  in  such  our  relation  to 
it.  And  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  would  be,  that  we 
should  refer  ourselves  implicitly  to  him,  and  cast  our- 
selves entirely  upon  him.  As  the  whole  attention  of  life 
should  be  to  obey  his  commands;  so  the  highest  enjoy- 
ment of  it  must  arise  from  the  contemplation  of  this  cha- 


160  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  [Sir.  XIII. 

racter,  and  our  relation  to  it,  from  a  consciousness  of  his 
favour  and  approbation,  and  from  the  exercise  of  those 
affections  towards  him  which  could  not  but  be  raised 
from  his  presence.  A  Being  who  hath  these  attributes, 
who  stands  in  this  relation,  and  is  thus  sensibly  present 
to  the  mind,  must  necessarily  be  the  objtct  of  these  affec- 
tions: there  is  as  real  a  correspondence  between  them,  as 
between  the  lowest  appetite  of  sense  and  its  object. 

That  this  being  is  not  a  creature,  but  the  Almighty 
God;  that  he  is  of  infinite  power  and  wisdom  and  good- 
ness, does  not  render  him  less  the  object  of  reverence 
and  love,  than  he  would  be  if  he  had  those  attributes  only 
in  a  limited  degree.    The  being  who  made  us,  and  upon 
whom  we  entirely  depend,  is  the  object  of  some  regards. 
He  hath  given  us  certain  affections  of  mind,  which  cor- 
respond to  wisdom,  power,  goodness;  i.e.  which  are 
raised  upon  view  of  those  qualities.    If  then  he  be  really 
wise,  powerful,  good;  he  is  the  natural  object  of  those 
affections,  which  he  has  endued  us  with,  and  which  cor- 
respond to  those  attributes.  That  he  is  infinite  in  power, 
perfect  in  wisdom  and  goodness,  makes  no  alteration,  but 
only  that  he  is  the  object  of  those  affections  raised  to  the 
highest  pitch.    He  is  not  indeed  to  be  discerned  by  any 
of  our  senses.    /  go  forward,  but  he  is  not  there;  and 
backward,  but  I  cannot  perceive  him:  on  the  left  hand  where 
he  doth  work,  but  I  cannot  behold  him :  he  hideth  himself 
on  the  right  hand,  that  I  cannot  see  him.     0  that  I  knew 
where  I  might  find  him  !  that  I  might  come  even  to  his 
seat!*    But  is  he  then  afar  off?  does  he  not  fill  heaven 
and  earth  with  his  presence  ?    The  presence  of  our  fel- 
low creatures  affects  our  senses,  and  our  senses  give  us 
the  knowledge  of  their  presence;  which  hath  different 
kinds  of  influence  upon  us;  love,  joy,  sorrow,  restraint, 
encouragement,  reverence.    However  this  influence  is 
not  immediately  from  our  senses,  but  from  that  know- 
ledge.   Thus  suppose  a  person  neither  to  see  nor  hear 
another,  not  to  know  by  any  of  his  senses,  but  yet  cer- 
tainly to  know,  that  another  was  with  him;  this  know- 
ledge might,  and  in  many  cases  would,  have  one  or  more 
of  the  effects  before  mentioned.    It  is  therefore  not  only 

*  Job.  xxii. 


Sim.  XHI.l  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  Ifil 

reasonable,  but  also  natural,  to  be  affected  with  a  pre- 
sence, though  it  be  not  the  object  of  our  senses:  whether 
it  be,  or  be  not,  is  merely  an  accidental  circumstance, 
which  needs  not  come  into  consideration :  it  is  the  cer- 
tainty that  he  is  with  us,  and  we  with  him,  which  hath 
the  influence.  We  consider  persons  then  as  present, 
not  only  when  they  are  within  reach  of  our  senses,  but 
also  when  we  are  assured  by  any  other  means  that  they 
are  within  such  a  nearness;  nay,  if  they  are  not,  we  can 
recall  them  to  our  mind,  and  be  moved  towards  them  as 
present:  and  must  He,  who  is  so  much  more  intimately 
with  us,  that  in  him  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being, 
be  thought  too  distant  to  be  the  object  of  our  affections  P 
We  own  and  feel  the  force  of  amiable  and  worthy  qua- 
lities in  our  fellow  creatures:  and  can  we  be  insensible 
to  the  contemplation  of  perfect  goodness  P  Do  we  reve- 
rence the  shadows  of  greatness  here  below,  are  we  soli- 
citous about  honour  and  esteem  and  the  opinion  of  the 
world:  and  shall  we  not  feel  the  same  with  respect  to 
him,  whose  are  wisdom  and  power  in  their  original,  who 
is  the  God  of  judgment  by  whom  actions  are  weighed? 
Thus  love,  reverence,  desire  of  esteem,  every  faculty, 
every  affection,  tends  towards,  and  is  employed  about  its 
respective  object  in  common  cases:  and  must  the  exer- 
cise of  them  be  suspended  with  regard  to  him  alone,, 
who  is  an  object,  an  infinitely  more  than  adequate  object,, 
to  our  most  exalted  faculties;  him,  of  whom,  and  through 
whom,  and  to  whom  are  all  things  ? 

As  we  cannot  remove  from  this  earth,  or  change  our 
general  business  on  it,  so  neither  can  we  alter  our  real 
nature.  Therefore  no  exercise  of  the  mind  can  be  re- 
commended, but  only  the  exercise  of  those  faculties  you 
are  conscious  of.  Religion  does  not  demand  new  affec- 
tions, but  only  claims  the  direction  of  those  you  already 
have,  those  affections  you  daily  feel;  though  unhappily 
confined  to  objects,  not  altogether  unsuitable,  but  alto- 
gether unequal  to  them.  We  only  represent  to  you  the 
higher,  the  adequate  objects  of  those  very  faculties  and 
affections.  Let  the  man  of  ambition  go  on  still  to  con- 
sider disgrace  as  the  greatest  evil;  honour,  as  his  chief 
good.    But  disgrace,  in  whose  estimation  P    Honour,  iu 


1G2  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOr,  (8m.  XIII 

whose  judgment  ?  This  is  the  only  question.  If  shame 
and  delight  in  esteem,  be  spoken  of  as  real,  as  any  set- 
tled ground  of  pain  or  pleasure;  both  these  must  be  in 
proportion  to  the  supposed  wisdom  and  worth  of  him, 
by  whom  we  are  contemned  or  esteemed.  Must  it  then 
be  thought  enthusiastical  to  speak  of  a  sensibility  of  this 
sort,  which  shall  have  respect  to  an  unerring  judgment, 
to  infinite  wisdom;  when  we  are  assured  this  unerring 
judgment,  this  infinite  wisdom,  does  observe  upon  our 
actions  ? 

It  is  the  same  with  respect  to  the  love  of  God  in  the 
strictest  and  most  confined  sense.  We  only  offer  and 
represent  the  highest  object  of  an  affection,  supposed 
already  in  your  mind.  Some  degree  of  goodness  must 
be  previously  supposed:  this  always  implies  the  love  of 
itself,  an  affection  to  goodness:  the  highest,  the  adequate 
object  of  this  affection,  is  perfect  goodness;  which  there- 
fore we  are  to  love  with  all  our  heart,  vrith  all  our  soul, 
■and  with  all  our  strength.  "Must  we,  then,  forgetting 
our  own  interest,  as  it  were  go  out  of  ourselves,  and 
love  God  for  his  own  sake  ?"  No  more  forget  your 
t  own  interest,  no  more  go  out  of  yourselves,  than  when 
you  prefer  one  place,  one  prospect,  the  conversation  of 
one  man  to  that  of  another.  Does  not  every  affection 
necessarily  imply,  that  the  object  of  it  be  itself  loved? 
If  it  be  not,  it  is  not  the  object  of  the  affection.  You 
may  and  ought  if  you  can,  but  it  is  a  great  mistake  to 
think  you  can  love  or  fear  or  hate  any  thing,  from  con- 
sideration that  such  love  or  fear  or  hatred  may  be  a 
means  of  obtaining  good  or  avoiding  evil.  But  the  ques- 
tion, whether  we  ought  to  love  God  for  his  sake  or  for 
our  own,  being  a  mere  mistake  in  language;  the  real 
question,  which  this  is  mistaken  for,  will,  I  suppose, 
be  answered  by  observing,  that  the  goodness  of  God 
already  exercised  towards  us,  our  present  dependence 
upon  him,  and  our  expectation  of  future  benefits,  ought, 
and  have  a  natural  tendency,  to  beget  in  us  the  affection 
of  gratitude,  and  greater  love  towards  him,  than  the  same 
goodness  exercised  towards  others:  were  it  only  for  this 
reason,  that  every  affection  is  moved  in  proportion  to 
Ihe  sense  we  have  of  the  object  of  it;  and  we  cannot  but 


Ski.  XIV  ]  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  ffj3 

have  a  more  lively  sense  of  goodness,  when  exereised 
towards  ourselves,  than  when  exercised  towards  others. 
I  added  expectation  of  future  benefits,  because  the  ground 
of  that  expectation  is  present  goodness. 

Thus  Almighty  God  is  the  natural  object  of  the  seve- 
ral affections,  love,  reverence,  fear,  desire  of  approbation. 
For  though  he  is  simply  one,  yet  we  cannot  but  consider 
him  in  partial  and  different  views.  He  is  in  himself  one 
uniform  being,  and  for  ever  the  same  without  variable- 
ness or  shadow  of  turning :  but  his  infinite  greatness,  his 
goodness,  his  wisdom,  are  different  objects  to  our  mind. 
To  which  is  to  be  added,  that  from  the  changes  in  our 
characters,  together  with  his  unchangeableness,  we  can- 
not but  consider  ourselves  as  more  or  less  the  objects  of 
his  approbation,  and  really  be  so.  For  if  he  approves 
what  is  good,  he  cannot,  merely  from  the  unchangeable- 
ness of  his  nature,  approve  what  is  evil.  Hence  must 
arise  more  various  movements  of  mind,  more  different 
kinds  of  affections.  And  this  greater  variety  also  is  just 
and  reasonable  in  such  creatures  as  we  are,  though  it 
respects  a  Being  simply  one,  good  and  perfect.  As  some 
of  these  affections  are  most  particularly  suitable  to  so 
imperfect  a  creature  as  man,  in  this  mortal  state  we  are 
passing  through;  so  there  may  be  other  exercises  of 
mind,  or  some  of  these  in  higher  degrees,  our  employ- 
ment and  happiness  in  a  state  of  perfection. 


SERMON  XIV 

Consider  then  our  ignorance,  the  imperfection  of  our 
nature,  our  virtue  and  our  condition  in  this  world,  with 
respect  to  an  infinitely  good  and  just  Being,  our  Creator 
and  Governor:  and  you  will  see  what  religious  affections 
of  mind  are  most  particularly  suitable  to  this  mortal  state 
we  are  passing  through. 

Though  we  are  not  affected  with  any  thing  so  strongly, 
as  what  we  discern  with  our  senses;  and  though  our 
nature  and  condition  require,  that  we  be  much  taken  up 
about  sensible  things;  yet  our  reason  convinces  us  that 


164  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  [Skr.  XIV 

God  is  present  with  us,  and  we  see  and  feel  the  effects 
of  his  goodness:  he  is  therefore  the  object  of  some 
regards.  The  imperfection  of  our  virtue,  joined  with  the 
consideration  of  his  absolute  rectitude  or  holiness,  will 
scarce  permit  that  perfection  of  love,  which  entirely  casts 
out  all  fear:  yet  goodness  is  the  object  of  love  to  all 
creatures  who  have  any  degree  of  it  themselves;  and 
consciousness  of  a  real  endeavour  to  approve  ourselves 
to  him,  joined  with  the  consideration  of  his  goodness,  as 
it  quite  excludes  servile  dread  and  horror,  so  it  is  plainly 
a  reasonable  ground  for  hope  of  his  favour.  Neither 
fear,  nor  hope,  nor  love  then  are  excluded :  and  one  or 
another  of  these  will  prevail,  according  to  the  different 
views  we  have  of  God;  and  ought  to  prevail,  according 
to  the  changes  we  find  in  our  own  character.  There  is 
a  temper  of  mind  made  up  of,  or  which  follows  from  all 
three,  fear,  hope,  love;  namely,  resignation  to  the  divine 
will,  which  is  the  general  temper  belonging  to  this  state ; 
which  ought  to  be  the  habitual  frame  of  our  mind  and 
heart,  and  to  be  exercised  at  proper  seasons  more  dis- 
tinctly, in  acts  of  devotion. 

Resignation  to  the  will  of  God  is  the  whole  of  piety: 
it  includes  in  it  all  that  is  good,  and  is  a  source  of  the 
most  settled  quiet  and  composure  of  mind.  There  is 
the  general  principle  of  submission  in  our  nature.  Man 
is  not  so  constituted  as  to  desire  things,  and  be  uneasy 
in  the  want  of  them,  in  proportion  to  their  known  value: 
many  other  considerations  come  in  to  determine  the 
degrees  of  desire ;  particularly  whether  the  advantage  we 
take  a  view  of  be  within  the  sphere  of  our  rank.  Who 
ever  felt  uneasiness,  upon  observing  any  of  the  advan- 
tages brute  creatures  have  over  us  ?  And  yet  it  is  plain 
they  have  several.  It  is  the  same  with  respect  to  advan- 
tages belonging  to  creatures  of  a  superior  order.  Thus, 
though  we  see  a  thing  to  be  highly  valuable,  yet  that  it 
does  not  belong  to  our  condition  of  being,  is  sufficient  to 
suspend  our  desires  after  it,  to  make  us  rest  satisfied 
without  such  advantage.  Now  there  is  just  the  same 
reason  for  quiet  resignation  in  the  want  of  every  thing 
equally  unattainable,  and  out  of  our  reach  in  particular, 
though  others  of  our  species  be  possessed  of  it.    All  this 


to.  X1V.J  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  165 

may  be  applied  to  the  whole  of  life;  to  positive  incon- 
veniences as  well  as  wants;  not  indeed  to  the  sensations  of 
pain  and  sorrow,  but  to  all  the  uneasinesses  of  reflection, 
murmuring,  and  discontent.  Thus  is  human  nature 
formed  to  compliance,  yielding,  submission  of  temper. 
We  find  the  principles  of  it  within  us;  and  every  one 
exercises  it  towards  some  objects  or  other;  i.e.  feels  it 
with  regard  to  some  persons,  and  some  circumstances. 
Now  this  is  an  excellent  foundation  of  a  reasonable  and 
religious  resignation.  Nature  teaches  and  inclines  us  to 
take  up  with  our  lot:  the  consideration,  that  the  course 
of  things  is  unalterable,  hath  a  tendency  to  quiet  the  mind 
under  it,  to  beget  a  submission  of  temper  to  it.  But 
when  we  can  add,  that  this  unalterable  course  is  appointed 
and  continued  by  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness;  how 
absolute  should  be  our  submission,  how  entire  our  trust 
and  dependence! 

This  would  reconcile  us  to  our  condition;  prevent  aH 
the  supernumerary  troubles  arising  from  imagination, 
distant  fears,  impatience;  aU  uneasiness,  except  that 
which  necessarily  arises  from  the  calamities  themselves 
we  may  be  under.  How  many  of  our  cares  should  we 
by  this  means  be  disburdened  of!  Cares  not  properly 
our  own,  how  apt  soever  they  may  be  to  intrude  upon 
us,  and  we  to  admit  them ;  the  anxieties  of  expectation, 
solicitude  about  success  and  disappointment,  which  in 
truth  are  none  of  our  concern.  How  open  to  every 
gratification  would  that  mind  be,  which  was  clear  of  these 
encumbrances! 

Our  resignation  to  the  will  of  God  may  be  said  to  be 
perfect,  when  our  will  is  lost  and  resolved  up  into  his; 
when  we  rest  in  his  will  as  our  end,  as  being  itself  most 
just,  and  right,  and  good.  And  where  is  the  impossibility 
of  such  an  affection  to  what  is  just,  and  right,  and  good, 
such  a  loyalty  of  heart  to  the  Governor  of  the  universe, 
as  shall  prevail  over  all  sinister  indirect  desires  of  our 
own?  Neither  is  this  at  bottom  any  thing  more  than 
faith,  and  honesty,  and  fairness  of  mind;  in  a  more  en- 
larged sense  indeed,  than  those  words  are  commonly 
used.  And  as  in  common  cases,  fear  and  hope  and 
other  passions  are  raised  in  us  by  their  respective 


J  00  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  [Se.i.  XIV 

objects:  so  this  submission  of  heart  and  soul  and  mind, 
this  religious  resignation,  would  be  as  naturally  produced 
by  our  having  just  conceptions  of  Almighty  God,  and  a 
real  sense  of  his  presence  with  us.  In  how  low  a  degree 
soever  this  temper  usually  prevails  amongst  men,  yet  it  is 
a  temper  right  in  itself:  it  is  what  we  owe  to  our  Creator: 
it  is  particularly  suitable  to  our  mortal  condition,  and 
what  we  should  endeavour  after  for  our  own  sakes  in 
our  passage  through  such  a  world  as  this;  where  is 
nothing  upon  which  we  can  rest  or  depend;  nothing  but 
what  we  are  liable  to  be  deceived  and  disappointed  in. 
Thus  we  might  acquaint  ourselves  with  God,  and  be  at 
peace.  This  is  piety  and  religion  in  the  strictest  sense, 
considered  as  an  habit  of  mind;  an  habitual  sense  oi 
God's  presence  with  us;  being  affected  towards  him,  as 
present,  in  the  manner  his  superior  nature  requires  from 
such  a  creature  as  man:  this  is  to  walk  with  God. 

Little  more  need  be  said  of  devotion  or  religious  wor- 
ship, than  that  it  is  this  temper  exerted  into  act.  The 
nature  of  it  consists  in  the  actual  exercise  of  those  affec- 
tions towards  God,  which  are  supposed  habitual  in  good 
men.  He  is  always  equally  present  with  us:  but  we  are 
so  much  taken  up  with  sensible  things,  that  Lo,  he  yoeth 
by  us,  and  we  see  him  not :  he  passeth  on  also,  but  we  per- 
ceive him  not*  Devotion  is  retirement,  from  the  world 
he  has  made,  to  him  alone :  it  is  to  withdraw  from  the 
avocations  of  sense,  to  employ  our  attention  wholly  upon 
him  as  upon  an  object  actually  present,  to  yield  ourselves 
up  to  the  influence  of  the  divine  presence,  and  to  give 
full  scope  to  the  affections  of  gratitude,  love,  reverence, 
trust,  and  dependence;  of  which  infinite  power,  wisdom, 
and  goodness,  is  the  natural  and  only  adequate  object. 
We  may  apply  to  the  whole  of  devotion  those  words  of 
the  son  of  Sirach,  When  you  glorify  the  Lord,  exalt  hint- 
as  much  as  you  can;  for  even  yet  will  he  far  exceed;  and 
when  you  exalt  him,  put  forth  all  your  strenyth,  and  be 
not  weary ;  for  you  can  never  go  far  enough.i  Our  most 
raised  affections  of  every  kind  cannot  but  fall  short  and 
be  disproportionate,  when  an  infinite  Being  is  the  object 
of  them.    This  is  the  highest  exercise  and  employment  oi 


*  Job  ix.  U. 


*  Rfidus.  xiiii.  30. 


Ser.  XIV.)  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  1C7 

mind  that  a  creature  is  capable  of.  As  this  divine  service 
and  worship  is  itself  absolutely  due  to  God,  so  also  is  it 
necessary  in  order  to  a  further  end,  to  keep  alive  upon 
our  minds  a  sense  of  his  authority,  a  sense  that  in  our 
ordinary  behaviour  amongst  men  we  act  under  him  as 
our  governor  and  judge. 

Thus  you  see  the  temper  of  mind  respecting  God, 
which  is  particularly  suitable  to  a  state  of  imperfection; 
to  creatures  in  a  progress  of  being  towards  somewhat 
further. 

Suppose  now  this  something  further  attained;  that  we 
were  arrived  at  it:  what  a  perception  will  it  be,  to  see 
and  know  and  feel  that  our  trust  was  not  vain,  our  de- 
pendence not  groundless?  that  the  issue,  event,  and!, 
consummation  came  out  such  as  fully  to  justify  and 
answer  that  resignation?  If  the  obscure  view  of  the 
divine  perfection,  which  we  have  in  this  world,  ought  in 
just  conseo^ence  to  beget  an  entire  resignation;  what 
will  this  resignation  be  exalted  into,  when  we  shall  see 
face  to  face,  and  know  as  we  are  known?  If  we  cannot 
form  any  distinct  notion  of  that  perfection  of  the  love  of 
God,  which  casts  out  all  fear ;  of  that  enjoyment  of  him, 
which  will  be  the  happiness  of  good  men  hereafter;  the 
consideration  of  our  wants  and  capacities  of  happiness, 
and  that  he  will  be  an  adequate  supply  to  them,  must 
serve  us  instead  of  such  distinct  conception  of  the  parti- 
cular happiness  itself. 

Let  us  then  suppose  a  man  entirely  disengaged  from 
business  and  pleasure,  sitting  down  alone  and  at  leisure, 
to  reflect  upon  himself  and  his  own  condition  of  being. 
He  would  immediately  feel  that  he  was  by  no  means 
complete  of  himself,  but  totally  insufficient  for  his  own 
happiness.  One  may  venture  to  affirm,  that  every  man 
hath  felt  this,  whether  he  hath  again  reflected  upon  it  or 
not.  It  is  feeling  this  deficiency,  that  they  are  unsatis- 
fied with  themselves,  which  makes  men  look  out  for 
assistance  from  abroad;  and  which  has  given  rise  to 
various  kinds  of  amusements,  altogether  needless  any 
otherwise  than  as  they  serve  to  fill  up  the  blank  spaces 
of  time,  and  so  hinder  their  feeling  this  deficiency,  and 
being  uneasy  with  themselves.    Now,  if  these  external 


168  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  [Ser.  XIV 

things  we  take  up  with  were  really  an  adequate  supply 
to  this  deficiency  of  human  nature,  if  by  their  means  our 
capacities  and  desires  were  all  satisfied  and  filled  up  ; 
then  it  might  be  truly  said,  that  we  had  found  out  the 
proper  happiness  of  man;  and  so  might  sit  down  satisfied, 
and  be  at  rest  in  the  enjoyment  of  it.     But  if  it 
appears,  that  the  amusements,  which  men  usually  pass 
their  time  in,  are  so  far  from  coming  up  to  or  answering 
our  notions  and  desires  of  happiness,  or  good,  that  they 
are  really  no  more  than  what  they  are  commonly  called, 
somewhat  to  pass  away  the  time ;  i.  e.  somewhat  which 
serves  to  turn  us  aside  from,  and  prevent  our  attending  to, 
this  our  internal  poverty  and  want;  if  they  serve  only, 
or  chiefly,  to  suspend,  instead  of  satisfying  our  concep- 
tions and  desires  of  happiness  ;  if  the  want  remains,  and 
we  have  found  out  little  more  than  barely  the  means  of 
making  it  less  sensible ;  then  are  we  still  to  seek  for 
somewhat  to  be  an  adequate  supply  to  it.     It  is  plain 
that  there  is  a  capacity  in  the  nature  of  man,  which 
neither  riches,  nor  honours,  nor  sensual  gratifications, 
nor  any  thing  in  this  world  can  perfectly  fill  up,  or  satisfy: 
there  is  a  deeper  and  more  essential   want,  than  any 
of  these  things  can  be  the  supply  of     Yet  surely  there 
is  a  possibility  of  somewhat,  which  may  fill  up  all  our 
capacities  of  happiness  ;  somewhat,  in  which  our  souls 
may  find  rest;  somewhat,  which  may  be  to  us  that 
satisfactory  good  we  are  inquiring  after.    But  it  cannot 
be  any  thing  which  is  valuable  only  as  it  tends  to  some 
further  end.    Those  therefore  who  have  got  this  world  sc 
much  into  their  hearts,  as  not  to  be  able  to  consider  hap- 
piness as  consisting  in  any  thing  but  property  and  pos- 
sessions, which  are  only  valuable  as  the  means  to  some- 
what else,  cannot  have  the  least  glimpse  of  the  subject 
before  us ;  which  is  the  end,  not  the  means  ;  the  thing 
itself,  not  somewhat  in  order  to  it.    But  if  you  can  lay 
aside  that  general,  confused,  undeterminate  notion  of 
happiness,  as  consisting  in  such  possessions  ;  and  fix  in 
your  thoughts,  that  it  really  can  consist  in  nothing  but  in 
a  faculty's  having  its  proper  object ;  you  will  clearly  see, 
that  in  the  coolest  way  of  consideration,  without  either 
the  heat  of  fanciful  enthusiasm,  or  the  warmth  of  real 


Sub.  XIV.  1  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  l69 

devotion,  nothing  is  more  certain,  than  that  an  infinite 
Being  may  himself  be,  if  he  pleases,  the  supply  to  all  the 
capacities  of  our  nature.  All  the  common  enjoyments 
of  life  are  from  the  faculties  he  hath  endued  us  with,  and 
the  objects  he  hath  made  suitable  to  them.  He  may 
himself  be  to  us  infinitely  more  than  all  these  :  he  may 
be  to  us  all  that  we  want.  As  our  understanding  can 
contemplate  itself,  and  our  affections  be  exercised  upon 
themselves  by  reflection,  so  may  each  be  employed  in 
the  same  manner  upon  any  other  mind :  and  since  the 
supreme  Mind,  the  Author  and  Cause  of  all  things,  is 
the  highest  possible  object  to  himself,  he  may  be  an 
adequate  supply  to  all  the  faculties  of  our  souls  ;  a  sub- 
ject to  our  understanding,  and  an  object  to  our  affections. 

Consider  then :  when  we  shall  have  put  off  this  mor- 
tal body,  when  we  shall  be  divested  of  sensual  appetites, 
and  those  possessions  which  are  now  the  means  of  grati- 
fication shall  be  of  no  avail ;  when  this  restless  scene  of 
business  and  vain  pleasures,  which  now  diverts  us  from 
ourselves,  shall  be  all  over ;  we,  our  proper  self,  shall 
still  remain  :  we  shall  still  continue  the  same  creatures 
we  are,  with  wants  to  be  supplied,  and  capacities  of 
happiness.  We  must  have  faculties  of  perception, 
though  not  sensitive  ones ;  and  pleasure  or  uneasiness 
from  our  perceptions,  as  now  we  have. 

There  are  certain  ideas,  which  we  express  by  the 
words,  order,  harmony,  proportion,  beauty,  the  furthest 
removed  from  any  thing  sensual.  Now  what  is  there  in 
those  intellectual  images,  forms,  or  ideas,  which  begets 
that  approbation,  love,  delight,  and  even  rapture,  which 
is  seen  in  some  persons'  faces  upon  having  those  objects 
present  to  their  minors P — "Mere  enthusiasm!" — Be  it 
what  it  will :  there  are  objects,  works  of  nature  and  of 
art,  which  all  mankind  have  delight  from,  quite  distinct 
from  their  affording  gratification  to  sensual  appetites ;  and 
from  quite  another  view  of  them,  than  as  being  for  their 
interest  and  further  advantage.  The  faculties  from  which 
we  are  capable  of  these  pleasures,  and  the  pleasures 
themselves,  are  as  natural,  and  as  much  to  be  accounted 
for,  as  any  sensual  appetite  whatever,  and  the  pleasure 
from  its  gratification.    Words  to  be  sure  are  wanting  upon 


170  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  [Ser.  XIV. 

this  subject:  to  say,  that  every  thing  of  grace  and  beauty, 
throughout  the  whole  of  nature,  every  thing  excellent 
and  amiable  shared  in  differently  lower  degrees  by  the 
whole  creation,  meet  in  the  Author  and  Cause  of  all 
things ;  this  is  an  inadequate,  and  perhaps  improper  way 
of  speaking  of  the  divine  nature :  but  it  is  manifest  that 
absolute  rectitude,  the  perfection  of  being,  must  be  in  all 
senses,  and  in  every  respect,  the  highest  object  to  the 
mind. 

In  this  world  it  is  only  the  effects  of  wisdom,  and  power, 
and  greatness,  which  we  discern  :  it  is  not  impossible,  that 
hereafter  the  qualities  themselves  in  the  supreme  Being 
may  be  the  immediate  object  of  contemplation.  What 
amazing  wonders  are  opened  to  view  by  late  improve- 
ments! What  an  object  is  the  universe  to  a  creature,  if 
there  be  a  creature  who  can  comprehend  its  system !  But  it 
must  be  an  infinitely  higher  exercise  of  the  understanding, 
to  view  the  scheme  of  it  in  that  mind,  which  projected  it, 
before  its  foundations  were  laid.  And  surely  we  have 
meaning  to  the  words,  when  we  speak  of  going  further; 
and  viewing,  not  only  this  system  in  his  mind,  but  the 
wisdom  and  intelligence  itself  from  whence  it  proceeded. 
The  same  may  be  said  of  power.  But  since  wisdom  and 
power  are  not  God,  he  is  a  wise,  a  powerful  Being;  the 
divine  nature  may  therefore  be  a  further  object  to  the 
understanding.  It  is  nothing  to  observe  that  our  senses 
give  us  but  an  imperfect  knowledge  of  things  :  effects 
themselves,  if  we  knew  them  thoroughly,  would  give  us 
but  imperfect  notions  of  wisdom  and  power;  much  less 
of  his  Being,  in  whom  they  reside.  I  am  not  speaking 
of  any  fanciful  notion  of  seeing  all  things  in  God ;  but 
only  representing  to  you,  how  much  an  higher  object  to 
the  understanding  an  infinite  Being  himself  is,  than  the 
things  which  he  has  made :  and  this  is  no  more  than 
saying,  that  the  Creator  is  superior  to  the  works  of  his 
hands. 

This  may  be  illustrated  by  a  low  example.  Suppose 
a  machine,  the  sight  of  which  would  raise,  and  discoveries 
in  its  contrivance  gratify,  our  curiosity:  the  real  delight, 
in  this  case,  would  arise  from  its  being  the  effect  of  skill 
and  contrivance.    This  skill  in  the  mind  of  the  artificer 


8rh,  XIV  ]  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  171 

would  be  an  higher  object,  if  we  had  any  senses  or  ways 
to  discern  it.  For,  observe,  the  contemplation  of  that 
principle,  faculty,  or  power  which  produced  any  effect, 
must  be  an  higher  exercise  of  the  understanding,  than 
the  contemplation  of  the  effect  itself.  The  cause  must 
be  an  higher  object  to  the  mind  than  the  effect. 

But  whoever  considers  distinctly  what  the  light  of 
knowledge  is,  will  see  reason  to  be  satisfied  that  it  can- 
not be  the  chief  good  of  man:  all  this,  as  it  is  applicable, 
so  it  was  mentioned  with  regard  to  the  attribute  of  good- 
ness. I  say,  goodness.  Our  being  and  all  our  enjoy- 
ments are  the  effects  of  it:  just  men  bear  its  resemblance: 
but  how  little  do  we  know  of  the  original,  of  Avhat  it  is  in 
itself?  Recall  what  was  before  observed  concerning  the 
affection  to  moral  characters;  which,  in  how  low  a  degree 
soever,  yet  is  plainly  natural  to  man,  and  the  most 
excellent  part  of  his  nature:  suppose  this  improved,  as  it 
may  be  improved,  to  any  degree  whatever,  in  the  spirits 
of  just  men  made  perfect;  and  then  suppose  that  they  had 
a  real  view  of  that  righteousness,  which  is  an  everlasting 
righteousness ;  of  the  conformity  of  the  divine  will  to  the 
law  of  truth,  in  which  the  moral  attributes  of  God  con- 
sist; of  that  goodness  in  the  sovereign  Mind,  which  gave 
birth  to  the  universe:  add,  what  will  be  true  of  all  good 
men  hereafter,  a  consciousness  of  having  an  interest  in 
what  they  are  contemplating;  suppose  them  able  to  say, 
This  God  is  our  God  for  ever  and  ever:  would  they  be 
any  longer  to  seek  for  what  was  their  chief  happiness, 
their  final  good?  Could  the  utmost  stretch  of  their 
capacities  look  further?  Would  not  infinite  perfect 
goodness  be  their  very  end,  the  last  end  and  object  of 
their  affections;  beyond  which  they  could  neither  have, 
nor  desire;  beyond  which  they  could  not  form  a  wish  or 
thought? 

Consider  wherein  that  presence  of  a  friend  consist  , 
which  has  often  so  strong  an  effect,  as  wholly  to  posses 
the  mind,  and  entirely  suspend  all  other  affections  and 
regards;  and  which  tself  affords  the  highest  satisfaction 
and  enjoyment.  He  is  within  reach  of  the  senses.  Now, 
as  our  capacities  of  perception  improve,  we  shall  have, 
perhaps  by  some  faculty  entirely  new,  a  perception  of 


172  UPON  THE  LOVE  OF  GOD.  [Sbr.  XIV 

Gods  presence  with  us  in  a  nearer  and  stricter  way , 
since  it  is  certain  he  is  more  intimately  present  with  us 
than  any  thing  else  can  be.  Proof  of  the  existence  and 
presence  of  any  being  is  quite  different  from  the  immediate 
perception,  the  consciousness  of  it.  What  then  will  be 
the  joy  of  heart,  which  his  presence,  and  the  light  of  his 
countenance,  who  is  the  life  of  the  universe,  will  inspire 
good  men  with,  when  they  shall  have  a  sensation,  that 
he  is  the  sustainer  of  their  being,  that  they  exist  in  him; 
when  they  shall  feel  his  influence  to  cheer  and  enliven 
and  support  their  frame,  in  a  manner  of  which  we  have 
now  no  conception?  He  will  be  in  a  literal  sense  their 
strength  and  their  portion  for  ever. 

When  we  speak  of  things  so  much  above  our  compre- 
hension, as  the  employment  and  happiness  of  a  future 
state,  doubtless  it  behoves  us  to  speak  with  all  modesty 
and  distrust  of  ourselves.  But  the  Scripture  represents 
the  happiness  of  that  state  under  the  notions  of  seeing 
God,  seeing  him  as  he  is,  knowing  as  ice  are  known,  and 
seeing  face  to  face.  These  words  are  not  general  or 
undetermined,  but  express  a  particular  determinate 
happiness.  And  I  will  be  bold  to  say,  that  nothing  can 
account  for,  or  come  up  to  these  expressions,  but  only 
this,  that  God  himself  will  be  an  object  to  our  faculties, 
that  he  himself  will  be  our  happiness;  as  distinguished 
from  the  enjoyments  of  the  present  state,  which  seem  to 
arise,  not  immediately  from  him,  but  from  the  objects  he 
has  adapted  to  give  us  delight. 

To  conclude:  Let  us  suppose  a  person  tired  with  care 
and  sorrow  and  the  repetition  of  vain  delights  which  till 
up  the  round  of  life ;  sensible  that  every  thing  here  below 
in  its  best  estate  is  altogether  vanity.  Suppose  him  to 
feel  that  deficiency  of  human  nature,  before  taken  notice 
of;  and  to  be  convinced  that  God  alone  was  the  adequate 
supply  to  it.  What  could  be  more  applicable  to  a  good 
man  in  this  state  of  mind;  or  better  express  his  present 
wants  and  distant  hopes,  his  passage  through  this  world 
as  a  progress  towards  a  state  of  perfection,  than  the 
following  passages  in  the  devotions  of  the  royal  prophet? 
They  are  plainly  in  an  higher  and  more  proper  sense 
applicable  to  this,  than  they  could  be  to  any  thing  else. 


tm  XV.]  UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN.  173 

I  have  seen  an  end  of  all  perfection.  Uliom  have  I  in 
heaven  but  thee/  And  there  is  none  upon  earth  that  J 
desire  in  comparison  of  thee.  My  flesh  aid  my  heart  faileth  : 
but  God  is  the  strength  of  my  heart,  and  my  portion  for 
ever.  Like  as  the  hart  desireth  the  water-brooks,  so  lonyeth 
my  soul  after  thee,  0  God.  My  soul  is  athirst  for  God, 
yea,  even  for  the  living  God:  when  shall  I  come  to  appear 
before  him?  How  excellent  is  thy  loving -kindness,  0  God! 
and  the  children  of  men  shall  put  their  trust  under  the 
shadow  of  thy  wings.  They  shall  be  satisfied  with  the 
plenteousness  of  thy  house :  and  thou  shalt  give  them  drink 
of  thy  pleasures,  as  out  of  the  river.  For  with  thee  is  the 
well  of  life  :  and  in  thy  light  shall  we  see  light.  Blessed 
is  the  man  whom  thou  choosest,  and  receivest  unto  thee:  Ii6 
shall  dwell  in  thy  court,  and  shall  be  satisfied  with  the 
pleasures  of  thy  house,  even  of  thy  holy  temple.  Blessed 
is  the  people,  0  Lord,  that  can  rejoice  in  thee:  they  shall 
walk  in  the  light  of  thy  countenance.  T/ieir  delight  shall 
be  daily  in  thy  name,  and  in  thy  righteousness  shall  they 
make  their  boast.  For  thou  art  the  glory  of  their  strength  : 
and  in  thy  loving-kindness  they  shall  be  exalted.  As  for 
me,  I  will  behold  thy  presence  in  righteousness:  and  when 
I  awake  up  after  thy  likeness,  I  shall  be  satisfied  with  it. 
Thou  shalt  shew  me  the  path  of  life  ;  in  thy  presence  is  the 
fulness  of  joy,  and  at  thy  right  hand  there  is  pleasure  for 
evermore. 


SERMON  XV. 

UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OP  MAN. 

When  I  applied  mine  heart  to  know  wisdom,  and  to  see  the  business 
that  is  done  upon  the  earth :  then  I  beheld  all  the  work  of  God,  that 
a  man  cannot  find  out  the  work  that  is  done  under  the  sun :  because 
though  a  man  labour  to  seek  it  out,  yet  he  shall  not  find  it;  yea 
further,  though  a  wise  man  think  to  know  it,  yet  shall  he  not  be 
able  to  find  it. — Eccles.  viii.  16,  17. 

The  writings  of  Solomon  are  very  much  taken  up  with 
reflections  upon  human  nature  and  human  life ;  to  which 
he  hath  added,  in  this  hook,  reflections  upon  the  consti- 


1/4  UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN.  [9m.  XV. 

tution  of  things.  And  it  is  not  improbable,  that  the 
little  satisfaction  and  the  great  difficulties  he  met  with  in 
his  researches  into  the  general  constitution  of  nature, 
might  be  the  occasion  of  his  confining  himself,  so  much 
as  he  hath  done,  to  life  and  conduct.  However,  upon 
that  joint  review  he  expresses  great  ignorance  of  the 
works  of  God,  and  the  method  of  his  providence  in  the 
government  of  the  world;  great  labour  and  weariness  in 
the  search  and  observation  he  had  employed  himself 
about;  and  great  disappointment,  pain,  and  even  vexation 
of  mind,  upon  that  which  he  had  remarked  of  the  appear- 
ances of  things,  and  of  what  was  going  forward  upon  this 
earth.  This  whole  review  and  inspection,  and  the  result 
of  it,  sorrow,  perplexity,  a  sense  of  his  necessary  ignor- 
ance, suggests  various  reflections  to  his  mind.  But,  not- 
withstanding all  this  ignorance  and  dissatisfaction,  there 
is  somewhat  upon  which  he  assuredly  rests  and  depends ; 
somewhat,  which  is  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter, 
and  the  only  concern  of  man.  Following  this  his  method 
and  train  of  reflection,  let  us  consider, 

I.  The  assertion  of  the  text,  the  ignorance  of  man;  that 
the  wisest  and  most  knowing  cannot  comprehend  the 
ways  and  works  of  God:  and  then, 

II.  What  are  the  just  consequences  of  this  observa- 
tion and  knowledge  of  our  own  ignorance,  and  the  re- 
flections which  it  leads  us  to. 

I.  The  wisest  and  most  knowing  cannot  comprehend 
the  works  of  God,  the  methods  and  designs  of  his  provi- 
dence in  the  creation  and  government  of  the  world. 

Creation  is  absolutely  and  entirely  out  of  our  depth, 
and  beyond  the  extent  of  our  utmost  reach.  And  yet  it 
is  as  certain  that  God  made  the  world,  as  it  is  certain 
that  effects  must  have  a  cause.  It  is  indeed  in  general 
no  more  than  effects,  that  the  most  knowing  are 
acquainted  with:  for  as  to  causes,  they  are  as  entirely 
in  the  dark  as  the  most  ignorant.  What  are  the  laws 
by  which  matter  acts  upon  matter,  but  certain  effects; 
which  some,  having  observed  to  be  frequently  repeated, 
have  reduced  to  general  rules?  The  real  nature  and 
essence  of  beings  likewise  is  what  we  are  altogether 
ignorant  of.    All  these  things  are  so  entirely  out  of  our 


8*R.  XV.]  UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN.  175 

reach,  that  we  have  not  the  least  glimpse  of  them.  And 
we  know  little  more  of  ourselves,  than  we  do  of  the 
world  about  us:  how  we  were  made,  how  our  being  ig 
continued  and  preserved,  what  the  faculties  of  our  minds 
are,  and  upon  what  the  power  of  exercising  them  depends. 
/  am  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made :  marvellous  are  thy 
works,  and  that  my  soul  knoweth  right  well.  Our  own 
nature,  and  the  objects  we  are  surrounded  with,  serve  to 
raise  our  curiosity;  but  we  are  quite  out  of  a  condition  oi 
satisfying  it.  Every  secret  which  is  disclosed,  every 
discovery  which  is  made,  every  new  effect  which  is  brought 
to  view,  serves  to  convince  us  of  numberless  more  which 
remain  concealed,  and  which  we  had  before  no  suspicion 
of.  And  what  if  we  were  acquainted  with  the  whole 
creation,  in  the  same  way  and  as  thoroughly  as  we  are 
with  any  single  object  in  it?  What  would  all  this  natural 
knowledge  amount  to  ?  It  must  be  a  low  curiosity 
indeed  which  such  superficial  knowledge  could  satisfy. 
On  the  contrary,  would  it  not  serve  to  convince  us  of  our 
ignorance  still;  and  to  raise  our  desire  of  knowing  the 
nature  of  things  themselves,  the  author,  the  cause,  and 
the  end  of  them  ? 

As  to  the  government  of  the  world:  though  from 
consideration  of  the  final  causes  which  come  within  our 
knowledge;  of  characters,  personal  merit  and  demerit; 
of  the  favour  and  disapprobation,  which  respectively  are 
due  and  belong  to  the  righteous  and  the  wicked,  and 
which  therefore  must  necessarily  be  in  a  mind  which  sees 
things  as  they  really  are;  though,  I  say,  from  hence  we 
may  know  somewhat  concerning  the  designs  of  Providence 
in  the  government  of  the  world,  enougn  to  enforce  upon 
us  religion  and  the  practice  of  virtue :  yet,  since  the 
monarchy  of  the  universe  is  a  dominion  unlimited  in 
extent,  and  everlasting  in  duration ;  the  general  system 
of  it  must  necessarily  be  quite  beyond  our  comprehension. 
And,  since  there  appears  such  a  subordination  and 
reference  of  the  several  parts  to  each  other,  as  to 
constitute  it  properly  one  administration  or  government ; 
we  cannot  have  a  thorough  knowledge  of  any  part, 
without  knowing  the  whole.  This  surely  should  convince, 
us,  that  we  are  much  less  competent  judges  of  the  very 


176  UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN.  [So.  XV. 

small  part  which  comes  under  our  notice  in  this  world, 
than  we  are  apt  to  imagine.  No  heart  can  think  upon 
these  things  worthily:  and  who  is  able  to  conceive  his  way? 
It  is  a  tempest  which  no  man  can  see:  for  the  most  part  of 
his  works  are  hid.  Who  can  declare  the  ivorks  of  his 
justice  ?  for  his  covenant  is  afar  off,  and  the  trial  of  all 
things  is  in  the  end:  i.  e.  The  dealings  of  God  with  the 
children  of  men  are  not  yet  completed,  and  cannot  be 
judged  of  by  that  part  which  is  before  us.  So  that  a  man 
cannot  say,  This  is  worse  than  that :  for  in  time  they  shall 
be  well  approved.  Thy  faithfulness,  0  Lord,  reacheth  unto 
the  clouds :  thy  righteousness  standeth  like  the  strong 
mountains  :  thy  judgments  are  like  the  great  deep.  He  hath 
made  every  thing  beautiful  in  his  time :  also  he  hath  set  the 
world  in  their  heart;  so  that  no  man  can  find  out  the  work 
that  God  maketh  from  the  beginning  to  the  end.  And  thus 
St  Paul  concludes  a  long  argument  upon  the  various 
dispensations  of  Providence :  0  the  depth  of  the  riches, 
both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God!  How  unsearch- 
able are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways  past  finding  out !  For 
who  hath  known  the  mind  of  the  Lord  ? 

Thus  the  scheme  of  Providence,  the  ways  and  works 
of  God,  are  too  vast,  of  too  large  extent  for  our  capacities. 
There  is,  as  I  may  speak,  such  an  expense  of  power, 
and  wisdom,  and  goodness,  in  the  formation  and 
government  of  the  world,  as  is  too  much  for  us  to  take 
in,  or  comprehend.  Power,  and  wisdom,  and  goodness, 
are  manifest  to  us  in  all  those  works  of  God,  which  come 
within  our  view:  but  there  are  likewise  infinite  stores  of 
each  poured  forth  throughout  the  immensity  of  the 
creation ;  no  part  of  which  can  be  thoroughly  understood, 
without  taking  in  its  reference  and  respect  to  the  whole : 
and  this  is  what  we  have  not  faculties  for. 

And  as  the  works  of  God,  and  his  scheme  of  govern- 
ment, are  above  our  capacities  thoroughly  to  comprehend : 
so  there  possibly  may  be  reasons  which  originally  made 
it  fit  that  many  things  should  be  concealed  from  us,  which 
we  have  perhaps  natural  capacities  of  understanding; 
many  things  concerning  the  designs,  methods,  and  ends 
of  divine  Providence  in  the  government  of  the  world. 
There  is  no  manner  of  absurdity  in  supposing  a  veil  on 


3bb.XV.]  UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN.  177 

purpose  drawn  over  some  scenes  cf  infinite  power, 
wisdom,  and  goodness,  the  sight  of  which  might  some 
way  or  other  strike  us  too  strongly;  or  that  better  ends 
are  designed  and  served  by  their  being  concealed,  than 
could  be  by  their  being  exposed  to  our  knowledge.  The 
Almighty  may  cast  clouds  and  darkness  round  about  him, 
for  reasons  and  purposes  of  which  we  have  not  the  least 
glimpse  or  conception. 

However,  it  is  surely  reasonable,  and  what  might  have 
been  expected,  that  creatures  in  some  stage  of  their  being, 
suppose  in  the  infancy  of  it,  should  be  placed  in  a  state 
of  discipline  and  improvement,  where  their  patience  and 
submission  is  to  be  tried  by  afflictions,  where  temptations 
are  to  be  resisted,  and  difficulties  gone  through  in  the 
discharge  of  their  duty.  Now  if  the  greatest  pleasures 
and  pains  of  the  present  life  may  be  overcome  and 
suspended,  as  they  manifestly  may,  by  hope  and  fear, 
and  other  passions  and  affections;  then  the  evidence  of 
religion,  and  the  sense  of  the  consequences  of  virtue  and 
vice,  might  have  been  such,  as  entirely  in  all  cases  to 
prevail  over  those  afflictions,  difficulties,  and  temptations; 
prevail  over  them  so,  as  to  render  them  absolutely  none 
at  all.  But  the  very  notion  itself  now  mentioned,  of  a 
state  of  discipline  and  improvement,  necessarily  excludes 
such  sensible  evidence  and  conviction  of  religion,  and  of 
the  consequences  of  virtue  and  vice.  Religion  consists 
in  submission  and  resignation  to  the  divine  will.  Our 
condition  in  this  world  is  a  school  of  exercise  for  this 
temper:  and  our  ignorance,  the  shallowness  of  our  reason, 
the  temptations,  difficulties,  afflictions,  which  we  are 
exposed  to,  all  equally  contribute  to  make  it  so.  The 
general  observation  maybe  carried  on;  and  whoever  will 
attend  to  the  thing  will  plainly  see,  that  less  sensible 
evidence,  with  less  difficulty  in  practice,  is  the  same,  as 
more  sensible  evidence,  with  greater  difficulty  in  practice. 
Therefore  difficulties  in  speculation  as  much  come  into 
the  notion  of  a  state  of  discipline,  as  difficulties  in  practice: 
and  so  the  same  reason  or  account  is  to  be  given  of  both 
Thus,  though  it  is  indeed  absurd  to  talk  of  the  greater 
merit  of  assent,  upon  little  or  no  evidence,  than  upon 
demonstration ;  yet  the  strict  discharge  of  our  duty,  with 


178  UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN  [Sn.  XV 

less  sensible  evidence,  does  imply  in  it  a  better  character, 
than  the  same  diligence  in  the  discharge  of  it  upon  more 
sensible  evidence.  This  fully  accounts  for  and  explains 
that  assertion  of  our  Saviour,  Blessed  are  they  that  have 
not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed;*  have  become  Christians 
and  obeyed  the  gospel  upon  less  sensible  evidence  than 
that  which  Thomas,  to  whom  he  is  speaking,  insisted 
upon. 

But  after  all,  the  same  account  is  to  be  given,  why  we 
were  placed  in  these  circumstances  of  ignorance,  as  why 
nature  has  not  furnished  us  with  wings;  namely,  that  we 
were  designed  to  be  inhabitants  of  this  earth.  I  am 
afraid  we  think  too  highly  of  ourselves;  of  our  rank  in 
the  creation,  and  of  what  is  due  to  us.  What  sphere  of 
action,  what  business  is  assigned  to  man,  that  he  has  not 
capacities  and  knowledge  fully  equal  to  ?  It  is  manifest 
he  has  reason,  and  knowledge,  and  faculties  superior  to 
the  business  of  the  present  world:  faculties  which  appear 
superfluous,  if  we  do  not  take  in  the  respect  which  they 
have  to  somewhat  further,  and  beyond  it.  If  to  acquire 
knowledge  were  our  proper  end,  we  should  indeed  be 
buc  poorly  provided:  but  if  somewhat  else  be  our  busi- 
ness and  duty,  we  may,  notwithstanding  our  ignorance, 
be  well  enough  furnished  for  it;  and  the  observation  of 
our  ignorance  may  be  of  assistance  to  us  in  the  dis- 
charge of  it. 

II.  Let  us  then  consider,  what  are  the  consequences 
of  this  knowledge  and  observation  of  our  own  ignorance, 
and  the  reflection  it  leads  us  to. 

First,  We  may  learn  from  it,  with  what  temper  of 
mind  a  man  ought  to  inquire  into  the  subject  of  religion ; 
namely,  with  expectation  of  finding  difficulties,  and  with 
a  disposition  to  take  up  and  rest  satisfied  with  any  evi- 
dence whatever,  which  is  real. 

He  should  beforehand  expect  things  mysterious,  and 
such  as  he  will  not  be  able  thoroughly  to  comprehend, 
or  go  to  the  bottom  of.  To  expect  a  distinct  compre- 
hensive view  of  the  whole  subject,  clear  of  difficulties 
and  objections,  is  to  forget  our  nature  and  condition; 
neither  of  which  admit  of  such  knowledge,  with  respect 

*  John  XX.  29. 


Ser.  XV.]  UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN.  179 

to  any  science  whatever.  And  to  inquire  with  this 
expectation,  is  not  to  inquire  as  a  man,  but  as  one  of 
another  order  of  creatures. 

Due  sense  of  the  general  ignorance  of  man  would  also 
beget  in  us  a  disposition  to  take  up  and  rest  satisfied 
with  any  evidence  whatever,  which  is  real.  I  mention 
this  as  the  contrary  to  a  disposition,  of  which  there  are 
not  wanting  instances,  to  find  fault  with  and  reject  evi- 
dence, because  it  is  not  such  as  was  desired.  If  a  man 
were  to  walk  by  twilight,  must  he  not  follow  his  eyes  as 
much  as  if  it  were  broad  day  and  clear  sunshine?  Or 
if  he  were  obliged  to  take  a  journey  by  night,  would  he 
not  give  heed  to  any  light  shining  in  the  darkness,  till  the 
day  should  break  and  the  day-star  arise  ?  It  would  not 
be  altogether  unnatural  for  him  to  reflect  how  much 
better  it  were  to  have  daylight;  he  might  perhaps  have 
great  curiosity  to  see  the  country  round  about  him ;  he 
might  lament  that  the  darkness  concealed  many  extended 
prospects  from  his  eyes,  and  wish  for  the  sun  to  draw 
away  the  veil:  but  how  ridiculous  would  it  be  to«reject 
with  scorn  and  disdain  the  guidance  and  direction  which 
that  lesser  light  might  afford  him,  because  it  was  ne  t  the 
sun  itself!  If  the  make  and  constitution  of  man,  the 
circumstances  he  is  placed  in,  or  the  reason  of  things 
affords  the  least  hint  or  intimation,  that  virtue  is  the  law 
he  is  born  under;  scepticism  itself  should  lead  him  to 
the  most  strict  and  inviolable  practice  of  it;  that  he  may 
not  make  the  dreadful  experiment,  of  leaving  the  course 
of  life  marked  out  for  him  by  nature,  whatever  that 
nature  be,  and  entering  paths  of  his  own,  of  which  he 
can  know  neither  the  dangers,  nor  the  end.  For  though 
no  danger  be  seen,  yet  darkness,  ignorance,  and  blind- 
ness are  no  manner  of  security. 

Secondly,  Our  ignorance  is  the  proper  answer  to  many 
things,  which  are  called  objections  against  religion;  par- 
ticularly, to  those  which  arise  from  the  appearances  of 
evil  and  irregularity  in  the  constitution  of  nature  and  the 
government  of  the  world.  In  all  other  cases  it  is  thought 
necessary  to  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  whole  of 
a  scheme,  even  one  of  so  narrow  a  compass  as  those 
which  are  formed  by  men,  in  order  to  judge  of  the  good- 

M  2 


180  UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN.  [Ser.  XV 

ness  or  badness  of  it:  and  the  most  slight  and  superficial 
view  of  any  human  contrivance  comt  s  abundantly  nearer 
to  a  thorough  knowledge  of  it,  than  that  part,  which  we 
know  of  the  government  of  the  world,  does  to  the  genera! 
scheme  and  system  of  it;  to  the  whole  set  of  laws  by 
which  it  is  governed.  From  our  ignorance  of  the  con- 
stitution of  things,  and  the  scheme  of  Providence  in  the 
government  of  the  Avorld;  from  the  reference  the  several 
parts  have  to  each  other,  and  to  the  whole;  and  from 
our  not  being  able  to  see  the  end  and  the  whole;  it 
follows,  that  however  perfect  things  are,  they  must  even 
necessarily  appear  to  us  otherwise  less  perfect  than  they 
are.* 

Thirdly,  Since  the  constitution  of  nature,  and  the 
methods  and  designs  of  Providence  in  the  government  oi 
the  world,  are  above  our  comprehension,  we  should 
acquiesce  in,  and  rest  satisfied  with,  our  ignorance,  turn 
our  thoughts  from  that  which  is  above  and  beyond  us, 
and  apply  ourselves  to  that  which  is  level  to  our  capa- 
cities, and  which  is  our  real  business  and  concern. 
Knowledge  is  not  our  proper  happiness.  Whoever  will 
in  the  least  attend  to  the  thing  will  see,  that  it  is  the 

*  Suppose  some  very  complicated  piece  of  ictrk,  some  system  or  constitution,  formed 
for  some  genefal  end,  to  which  eacli  of  the  parts  had  ;i  reference.  The  perfection  or 
justness  of  this  work  or  constitution  would  consist  in  the  ref  n  nee  and  respect,  which 
the  several  parts  have  to  the  general  design.  This  ri  Fen  nee  of  pans  to  the  general 
design  may  be  infinitely  various,  both  in  degree  and  kind.  Tims  one  part  may  only 
contribute  and  be  subservient  to  another;  this  to  a  third  ;  and  so  on  through  a  long 
series,  the  last  part  of  which  alone  may  contribute  immediately  and  directly  to  the 
general  design.  Or  a  part  may  have  this  distant  reference  to  the  general  design, 
and  may  also  contribute  immediately  to  it.  For  instance  :  it  the  general  design  or 
end,  for  which  the  complicated  frame  of  nature  was  brought  into  being,  is  happiness; 
whatever  affords  present  satisfaction,  and  likewise  tends  to  carry  on  the  course  of 
things,  hath  this  double  respect  to  the  general  design.  Now  suppose  a  spectator  of 
that  work  or  constitution  was  in  a  great  measure  ignorant  of  such  various  reference 
to  the  general  end,  whatever  that  end  be  ;  and  that,  upon  a  very  slight  and  partial 
view  which  he  had  of  the  work,  several  things  appeared  to  his  eye  disproportionate  and 
wrong  ;  others,  just  and  beautiful ;  what  would  he  gather  from  these  appearances  ? 
He  would  immediately  conclude  there  was  a  probability,  if  he  could  see  the  whole 
reference  of  the  parts  appearing  wrong  to  the  general  design,  that  this  would  destroy 
the  appearance  of  wrongness  and  disproportion:  but  there  is  no  probability,  that  the 
reference  would  destroy  the  particular  right  appearances,  though  that  reference 
might  show  the  things  already  appearing  just,  to  be  so  likewise  in  a  higher  degree 
or  another  manner.  There  is  a  probability,  that  the  right  appearances  were  intended: 
there  is  no  probability,  that  the  wrong  appearances  were.  We  cannot  suspect 
irregularity  and  disorder  to  be  designed.  The  pillars  of  a  building  appear  beautiful ; 
liut  their  being  likewise  its  support  does  not  destroy  that  beauty:  there  still  remains 
a  reason  to  believe  that  the  architect  intended  the  beautiful  appearance,  after  we 
have  found  out  the  reference,  support.  It  would  be  reasonable  for  a  man  of  himself 
to  think  thus,  upon  the  first  piece  of  architecture  he  ever  saw. 


Se*.  XV.]  UPON  Til  K  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN.  181 

gaining,  not  the  having  of  it,  which  is  the  entertainmen* 
of  the  mind.  Indeed,  if  the  proper  happiness  of  mar 
consisted  in  knowledge  considered  as  a  possession  or 
treasure,  men  who  are  possessed  of  t!;e  largest  share 
would  have  a  very  ill  time  of  it;  as  they  would  be 
infinitely  more  sensible  than  others  of  their  poverty  in  this 
respect.  Thus  he  who  increases  knowledge  would  emi 
nently  increase  sorrow.  Men  of  deep  research  and  curious 
inquiry  should  just  be  put  in  mind,  not  to  mistake  what 
they  are  doing.  If  their  discoveries  serve  the  cause  ot 
virtue  and  religion,  in  the  way  of  proof,  motive  to  prac- 
tice, or  assistance  in  it;  or  if  they  tend  to  render  life  less 
unhappy,  and  promote  its  satisfactions ;  then  they  are 
most  usefully  employed:  but  bringing  things  to  light, 
alone  and  of  itself,  is  of  no  manner  of  use,  any  otherwise 
than  as  entertainment  or  diversion.  Neither  is  this  at 
all  amiss,  if  it  does  not  take  up  the  time  which  should 
be  employed  in  better  work.  But  it  is  evident  that 
there  is  another  mark  set  up  for  us  to  aim  at;  another 
(iid  appointed  us  to  direct  our  lives  to:  another  end, 
which  the  most  knowing  may  fail  of,  and  the  most 
ignorant  arrive  at.  The  secret  things  belong  unto  the 
Lord  our  God;  but  those  things  v)hich  are  revealed  belong 
unto  us,  and  to  our  children  for  ever,  that  we  may  do  all  the 
words  of  this  law.  Which  reflection  of  Moses,  put  in 
general  terms,  is,  that  the  only  knowledge,  which  is  of 
any  avail  to  us,  is  that  which  teaches  us  our  duty,  or 
assists  us  in  the  discharge  of  it.  The  economy  of  the 
universe,  the  course  of  nature,  almighty  power  exerted 
in  the  creation  and  government  of  the  world,  is  out  of 
our  reach.  What  would  be  the  consequence,  if  we 
could  really  get  an  insight  into  these  things,  is  very 
uncertain;  whether  it  would  assist  us  in,  or  divert  us 
from,  what  we  have  to  do  in  this  present  state.  If 
then  there  be  a  sphere  of  knowledge,  of  contempla- 
tion and  employment,  level  to  our  capacities,  and  of 
the  utmost  importance  to  us;  we  ought  surely  to  apply 
ourselves  with  all  diligence  to  this  our  proper  business, 
and  esteem  every  thing  else  nothing,  nothing  as  to  us, 
in  comparison  of  it.  Thus  Job,  discoursing  of  natural 
knowledge,  how  much  it  is  above  us,  and  of  wisdom 


182  UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN.  [Ssr.  XV. 

in  general,  says,  God  understandeth  the  way  thereof, 
and  he  knoweth  the  place  thereof'.  And  unto  man  he 
said,  Behold,  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  that  is  wisdom, 
and  to  depart  from  evil  is  understanding.  Other  orders 
of  creatures  mav  perhaps  be  let  into  the  secret  counsels 
of  heaven;  and  have  the  designs  and  methods  of  Provi  - 
dence, in  the  creation  and  government  of  the  world, 
communicated  to  them :  but  this  does  not  belong  to  ouv 
rank  or  condition.  The  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  to  depart 
from  evil,  is  the  only  wisdom  which  man  should  aspire 
after,  as  his  work  and  business.  The  same  is  said,  and 
with  the  same  connexion  and  context,  in  the  conclusion 
of  the  book  of  Ecclesiastes.  Our  ignorance,  and  the 
little  we  can  know  of  other  things,  affords  a  reason  why 
we  should  not  perplex  ourselves  about  them;  but  no 
way  invalidates  that  which  is  the  conclusion  of  the  wkofo 
matter,  Fear  God,  and  keep  his  commandments  ;  for  this 
is  the  whole  concern  of  man.  So  that  Socrates  was  not 
the  first  who  endeavoured  to  draw  men  off  from  labour- 
ing after,  and  laying  stress  upon  other  knowledge,  in 
comparison  of  that  which  related  to  morals.  Our  pro- 
vince is  virtue  and  religion,  life  and  manners;  the  science 
of  improving  the  temper,  and  making  the  heart  better. 
This  is  the  field  assigned  us  to  cultivate :  how  much  it 
has  lain  neglected  is  indeed  astonishing.  Virtue  is 
demonstrably  the  happiness  of  man  :  it  consists  in  good 
actions,  proceeding  from  a  good  principle,  temper,  or 
heart.  Overt-acts  are  entirely  in  our  power.  What 
remains  is,  that  we  learn  to  keep  our  heart;  to  govern 
and  regulate  our  passions,  mind,  affections :  that  so  we 
may  be  free  from  the  impotencies  of  fear,  envy,  malice, 
covetousness.  ambition  :  that  we  may  be  clear  of  these, 
considered  as  vices  seated  in  the  heart,  considered  as 
constituting  a  general  wrong  temper  ;  from  which  general 
wrong  frame  of  mind,  all  the  mistaken  pursuits,  and  far 
the  greatest  part  of  the  unhappiness  of  life,  proceed.  He, 
who  should  find  out  one  rule  to  assist  us  in  this  work, 
would  deserve  infinitely  better  of  mankind,  than  all  the 
improvers  of  other  knowledge  put  together. 

Lastly,  Let  us  adore  that  infinite  wisdom  and  power 
and  goodness,  which  is  above  our  comprehension.  To 


Sw».  XV.]  UPON  THE  IGNORANCE  OF  MAN.  183 

whom  hath  the  root  of  wisdom  been  revealed?  Or  who 
hath  known  her  wise  counsels?  There  is  one  wise  and 
greatly  to  be  feared;  the  Lord  sitting  upon  his  throne.  He 
created  her,  and  saw  her,  and,  numbered  her,  and  poured 
her  out  upon  all  his  works.  If  it  be  thought  a  considerable 
thing  to  be  acquainted  with  a  few,  a  very  few,  of  the  eff  ects 
of  infinite  power  and  wisdom;  the  situation,  bigness,  and 
revolution  of  some  of  the  heavenly  bodies;  what  senti- 
ments should  our  minds  be  filled  with  concerning  Him, 
who  appointed  to  each  its  place  and  measure  and  sphere 
of  motion,  all  which  are  kept  with  the  most  uniform 
constancy!  Who  stretched  out  the  heavens,  and  telleth  the 
number  of  the  stars,  and  calleth  them  all  by  their  names. 
Who  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  who  comprehendeth 
the  dust  of  it  in  a  measure,  and  weigheth  the  mountains  in 
scales,  and  the  hills  in  a  balance.  And,  when  we  have 
recounted  all  the  appearances  which  come  within  our 
view,  we  must  add,  Lo,  these  are  part  of  his  vmys:  but 
how  little  a  portion  is  heard  of  him!  Canst  thou  by 
searching  find  out  God?  Canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty 
unto  perfection?  It  is  as  high  as  heaven;  what  canst  thou 
do?  deeper  than  hell;  what  canst  thou  know? 

The  conclusion  is,  that  in  all  lowliness  of  mind  we  set 
lightly  by  ourselves:  that  we  form  our  temper  to  an 
implicit  submission  to  the  divine  Majesty;  beget  within 
ourselves  an  absolute  resignation  to  all  the  methods  of 
his  providence,  in  his  dealings  with  the  children  of  men: 
that,  in  the  deepest  humility  of  our  souls,  we  prostrate 
ourselves  before  him,  and  join  in  that  celestial  song; 
Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty! 
just  and  true  are  thy  ways,  thou  King  of  saints!  Who 
shall  not  fear  thee,  0  Lord,  and  glorify  thy  name  t 


SIX  SERMONS 


PREACHED  UPON 

PUBLIC  OCCASIONS. 


SERMON  I. 

PREACHED  BEFORE  THE  INCORPORATED  SOCIETY  FOR  THE  PROP AGATJOM 
OF  THE  GOSPEL  IN  FOREIGN  PARTS,  AT  THEIR  ANNIVERSARY  MEETING  IN 
THE  PARISH  CHURCH  OF  ST  MARY-LE-BOW,  ON  FRIDAY,  FEB.  16,  1738-9, 

And  this  gospel  of  the  kingdom  shall  he  preached  in  all  the  world,  for 
a  ivitwss  unto  all  nations. — Matt.  xxiv.  14. 

The  general  doctrine  of  religion,  that  all  things  are  under 
the  direction  of  one  righteous  Governor,  having  been 
established  by  repeated  revelations  in  the  first  ages  of 
the  world,  was  left  with  the  bulk  of  mankind,  to  be 
honestly  preserved  pure  and  entire,  or  carelessly ,  for- 
gotten, or  wilfully  corrupted.  And  though  reason,  almost 
intuitively,  bare  witness  to  the  truth  of  this  moral  system 
of  nature,  yet  it  soon  appeared,  that  they  did  not  like  to 
retain  God  in  their  knowledge*  as  to  any  purposes  of  real 
piety.  Natural  religion  became  gradually  more  and  more 
darkened  with  superstition,  little  understood,  less  regarded 
in  practice;  and  the  face  of  it  scarce  discernible  at  all,  in 
the  religious  establishments  of  the  most  learned,  polite 
nations.  And  how  much  soever  could  have  been  done 
towards  the  revival  of  it  by  the  light  of  reason,  yet  this 
light  could  not  have  discovered,  what  so  nearly  concerned 
us,  that  important  part  in  the  scheme  of  this  world,  which 
regards  a  Mediator;  nor  how  far  the  settled  constitution 
of  its  government  admitted  repentance  to  be  accepted  for 
•remission  of  sins ;  after  the  obscure  intimations  of  these 
things,  from  tradition,  were  corrupted  or  forgotten.  One 

*  Rom.  i.  28. 


A  SERMON,  &c. 


185 


people  indeed  had  clearer  notices  of  them,  together  with 
the  genuine  scheme  of  natural  religion,  preserved  in  the 
primitive  and  subsequent  revelations  committed  to  their 
trust;  and  were  designed  to  be  a  witness  of  God,  and  a 
providence  to  the  nations  around  them:  but  this  people 
also  had  corrupted  themselves  and  their  religion  to  the 
highest  degree,  that  was  consistent  with  keeping  up  the 
form  of  it. 

In  this  state  of  things,  when  infinite  Wisdom  saw 
proper,  the  general  doctrine  of  religion  was  authoritatively 
republished  in  its  purity;  and  the  particular  dispensation 
of  Providence,  which  this  world  is  under,  manifested  to 
all  men,  even,  the  dispensation  of  the  grace  of  God* 
towards  us,  as  sinful,  lost  creatures,  to  be  recovered  by 
repentance  through  a  Mediator ;  who  was  to  make 
reconciliation  for  iniquity,  and  to  bring  in  everlasting 
righteousness,\  and  at  length  establish  that  new  state  of 
things  foretold  by  the  prophet  Daniel,  under  the  character 
of  a  kingdom,  which  the  God  of  heaven  would  set  up,  and 
which  should  never  be  destroyed.%  This,  including  a  more 
distinct  account  of  the  instituted  means,  whereby  Christ 
the  Mediator  would  gather  together  in  one  the  children  of 
God,  that  were  scattered  abroad^  and  conduct  them  to  the 
place  he  is  gone  to  prepare  for  them;\\  is  the  Gospel  of  the 
kingdom,  which  he  here  foretels,  and  elsewhere  com- 
mands, should  be  preached  in  all  the  world,  for  a  witness 
unto  all  nations.  And  it  first  began  to  be  spoken  by  the 
Lord,  and  was  confirmed  unto  us  by  them  that  heard  him ; 
God  also  bearing  them  witness,  both  with  signs  and  wonders, 
and  with  divers  miracles,  and  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
according  to  his  own  will:^  by  which  means  it  was  spread 
very  widely  among  the  nations  of  the  world,  and  became 
a  witness  unto  them. 

When  thus  much  was  accomplished,  as  there  is  a 
wonderful  uniformity  in  the  conduct  of  Providence, 
Christianity  was  left  with  Christians,  to  be  transmitted 
down  pure  and  genuine,  or  to  be  corrupted  and  sunk; 
in  like  manner  as  the  religion  of  nature  had  been  before 
left  with  mankind  in  general.    There  was  however  this 


*  F-ph.  iii.  2. 
§  John  xi.  52. 


i  Dan.  ix.  24. 
||  John  xiv.  2,  3. 


%  Dan.  ii.  44. 
Tl  Heb.  ii.  3,  4. 


[86 


A  SERMON  BEFORE  THE  SOCIETY  FOR 


difference,  that  by  an  institution  of  external  religion  fitted 
for  all  men  (consisting  in  a  common  form  of  Christian 
worship,  together  with  a  standing  ministry  of  instruction 
and  discipline),  it  pleased  God  to  unite  Christians 
in  communities  or  visible  churches,  and  all  along  to 
preserve  them,  over  a  great  part  of  the  world ;  and  thus 
perpetuate  a  general  publication  of  the  gospel.  For 
these  communities,  which  together  make  up  the  catholic 
visible  church,  are,  first,  the  repositories  of  the  written 
oracles  of  God;  and,  in  every  age,  have  preserved  and 
published  them,  in  every  country,  where  the  profession 
of  Christianity  has  obtained.  Hence  it  has  come  to 
pass,  and  it  is  a  thing  very  much  to  be  observed  in  the 
appointment  of  Providence,  that  even  such  of  these 
communities,  as,  in  a  long  succession  of  years,  have 
corrupted  Christianity  the  most,  have  yet  continually 
carried,  together  with  their  corruptions,  the  confutation 
of  them:  for  they  have  every  where  preserved  the  pure 
original  standard  of  it,  the  Scripture,  to  which  recourse 
might  have  been  had,  both  by  the  deceivers  and  the 
deceived,  in  every  successive  age.  Secondly,  any  par- 
ticular church,  in  whatever  place  established,  is  like  a 
city  that  is  set  on  a  hill,  which  cannot  be  hid*  inviting  all 
who  pass  by,  to  enter  into  it.  All  persons,  to  whom 
any  notices  of  it  come,  have,  in  Scripture  language,  the 
kingdom  of  God  come  nigh  unto  them.  They  are  reminded 
of  that  religion,  which  natural  conscience  attests  the  truth 
of:  and  they  may,  if  they  will,  be  instructed  in  it  more 
distinctly,  and  likewise  in  the  gracious  means,  whereby 
sinful  creatures  may  obtain  eternal  life;  that  chief  and 
final  good,  which  all  men,  in  proportion  to  their  under- 
standing and  integrity,  even  in  all  ages  and  countries  of 
the  heathen  world,  were  ever  in  pursuit  of.  And,  lastly, 
out  of  these  churches  have  all  along  gone  forth  persons, 
who  have  preached  the  gospel  in  remote  places,  with 
greater  or  less  good  effect:  for  the  establishment  of  any 
profession  of  Christianity,  however  corrupt,  I  call  a  good 
effect,  whilst  accompanied  with  a  continued  publication 
of  t«he  Scripture,  notwithstanding  it  may  for  some  time 
lie  quite  neglected. 


THE  PROPAGATION  OF  THE  GOSPEL.  187 

From  these  things,  it  may  be  worth  observing  by  the 
way,  appears  the  weakness  of  all  pleas  for  neglecting  the 
public  service  of  the  church.  For  though  a  man  prays 
with  as  much  devotion  and  less  interruption  at  home, 
and  reads  better  sermons  there,  yet  that  will  by  no  means 
excuse  the  neglect  of  his  appointed  part  in  keeping  up 
the  profession  of  Christianity  amongst  mankind.  And 
this  neglect,  were  it  universal,  must  be  the  dissolution  of 
the  whole  visible  church,  i.e.  of  all  Christian  communities; 
and  so  must  prevent  those  good  purposes,  which  were 
intended  to  be  answered  by  them,  and  which  they  have, 
all  along,  answered  over  the  world.  For  we  see  that  by 
their  means  the  event  foretold  in  the  text,  which  began 
in  the  preaching  of  Christ  and  the  apostles,  has  been 
carried  on,  more  or  less  ever  since,  and  is  still  carrying 
on;  these  being  the  providential  means  of  its  progress. 
And  it  is,  I  suppose,  the  completion  of  this  event,  which 
St  John  had  a  representation  of,  under  the  figure  of  an 
angel  flying  in  the  midst  of  heaven,  having  the  everlasting 
gospel  to  preach  unto  them  that  dwell  on  the  earth,  and  to 
every  nation,  and  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people.* 

Our  Lord  adds  in  the  text,  that  this  should  be  for  a 
witness  unto  them;  for  an  evidence  of  their  duty,  and  an 
admonition  to  perform  it.  But  what  would  be  the  effect, 
or  success  of  the  general  preaching  of  the  gospel,  is  not 
here  mentioned.  And  therefore  the  prophecv  of  the 
text  is  not  parallel  to  those  others  in  Scripture,  which 
seem  to  foretel  the  glorious  establishment  of  Christianity 
in  the  last  days:  nor  does  it  appear  that  they  are  coinci- 
dent; otherwise  than  as  the  former  of  these  events  must 
be  supposed  preparatory  to  the  latter.  Nay,  it  is  not 
said  here,  that  God  willeth  all  men  should  be  saved,  and 
come  unto  the,  knowledge  of  the  truth:  t  though  this  is  the 
language  of  Scripture  elsewhere.  The  text  declares  no 
more,  than  that  »*  was  the  appointment  of  God,  in  his 
righteous  government  over  the  world,  that  the  gospel  oj 
the  kingdom  should  be  preached  for  a  witness  unto  it. 

The  visible  constitution  and  course  of  nature,  the 
moral  law  written  in  our  hearts,  the  positive  institutions  of 
religion,  and  even  any  memorial  of  it,  are  all  spoken  of 


*  Rev.  xiv.  6. 


+  1  Tim.  ii.  4. 


183 


A  SERMON  BEFORE  THE  SOCIETY  FOR 


in  Scripture  under  this,  or  the  like  denomination:  so  are 
the  prophets,  apost'es,  and  our  Lord  himself.  The) 
are  all  witnesses,  for  the  most  part  unregarded  witnesses, 
in  behalf  of  God,  tc  mankind.  They  inform  us  of  his 
being  and  providence,  and  of  the  particular  dispensation 
of  religion  which  we  are  under ;  and  continually  remind 
us  of  them.  And  they  are  equally  witnesses  of  these 
things,  whether  we  regard  them  or  not.  Thus  after  a 
declaration,  that  Ezekiel  should  be  sent  with  a  divine 
message  to  the  children  of  Israel,  it  is  added,  and  they, 
whether  they  will  hear,  or  whether  they  will  forbear  (for 
they  are  a  rebellious  house  J,  yet  shall  know  that  tliere  hath 
been  a  prophet  among  them.*  And  our  Lord  directs  the 
seventy  disciples,  upon  their  departure  from  any  city, 
which  refused  to  receive  them,  to  declare,  Notwithstand- 
ing, be  ye  sure  of  this,  that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  come 
nigh  unto  you.\  The  thing  intended  in  both  these  pas- 
sages is  that  which  is  expressed  in  the  text  by  the  word 
witness.  Ana  all  of  them  together  evidently  suggest  thus 
much,  that  the  purposes  of  Providence  are  carried  on,  by 
the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  to  those  who  reject  it,  as 
well  as  to  those  who  embrace  it.  It  is  indeed  true,  God 
willeth  that  all  men  should  be  saved:  yet,  from  the  unal- 
terable constitution  of  his  government,  the  salvation  of 
every  man  cannot  but  depend  upon  his  behaviour,  and 
therefore  cannot  but  depend  upon  himself;  and  is  neces- 
sarily his  own  concern,  in  a  sense,  in  which  it  cannot  be 
another's.  All  this  the  Scripture  declares,  in  a  manner  the 
most  forcible  and  alarming:  Can  a  man  be  profitable  unto 
God,  as  he  that  is  wise  may  be  profitable  unto  himself?  Is 
it  any  pleasure  to  the  Almighty,  that  thou  art  righteous  ? 
or  is  it  gain  to  Him,  that  thou  makest  thy  way  perfect  c<\ 
If  thou  be  wise,  thou  shall  be  wise  for  thyself:  but  if  thou 
scornest,  thou  alone  shall  bear  it.§  He  that  heareth,  lei 
him  hear  ;  and  he  that  forbeareth,  let  him  forbear. \\  And 
again,  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear:  but  if  an  ; 
man  be  ignorant,  i.  e.  wilfully,  let  him  be  ignorant.!  To 
the  same  purpose  are  those  awful  words  of  the  angel,  in 
the  person  of  Him,  to  whom  all  judgment  is  committed:** 

•  Ezek.  ii.  5,  7.       +  Luke  x.  11.       %  Job  xxii.  2,  3.       $  Prov.  ix.  12. 
||  Ezek.  iL  27.         T[  I  Cor.  xiv.  38.         **  John  v.  22. 


THE  PROPAGATION  OF  THE  GOSPEL.  189 

He  that  is  unjust,  let  Mm  be  unjust  still:  and  he  which  is 
filthy,  let  him  be  filthy  still:  and  lie  that  is  righteous,  let 
kirn  be  righteous  still:  and  he  that  is  holy,  let  him  be  holy 
still.  And  behold,  I  come  quickly;  and  my  reward  is  with 
me,  to  give  every  man  according  as  his  work  shall  be* 
The  righteous  government  of  the  world  must  he  carried 
on;  and,  of  necessity,  men  shall  remain  the  subjects  ol 
it,  by  being  examples  of  its  mercy,  or  of  its  justice.  Life 
and  death  are  set  before  them,  and  whether  they  like  shall 
be  given  them.f  They  are  to  make  their  choice,  and 
abide  by  it:  but  which  soever  their  choice  be,  the  gospel 
is  equally  a  witness  to  them;  and  the  purposes  of  Provi- 
dence are  answered  by  this  witness  of  the  gospel. 

From  the  foregoing  view  of  things  we  should  be 
reminded,  that  the  same  reasons  which  make  it  our  duty 
to  instruct  the  ignorant  in  the  relation,  which  the  light  of 
nature  shows  they  stand  in  to  God  their  maker,  and  in 
the  obligations  of  obedience,  resignation,  and  love  to 
him,  which  arise  out  of  that  relation ;  make  it  our  duty 
likewise  to  instruct  them  in  all  those  other  relations, 
which  revelation  informs  us  of,  and  in  the  obligations  of 
duty,  which  arise  out  of  them.  And  the  reasons  for 
instructing  men  in  both  these  are  of  the  very  same  kind, 
as  for  communicating  any  useful  knowledge  whatever. 
God,  if  he  had  so  pleased,  could  indeed  miraculously  have 
revealed  every  religious  truth  which  concerns  mankind, 
to  every  individual  man;  and  so  he  could  have  every 
common  truth;  and  thus  have  superseded  all  use  of 
human  teaching  in  either.  Yet  he  has  not  done  this: 
but  has  appointed,  that  men  should  be  instructed  by  the 
assistance  of  their  fellow  creatures  in  both.  Further: 
though  all  knowledge  from  reason  is  as  really  from  God, 
as  revelation  is:  yet  this  last  is  a  distinguished  favour  to 
us,  and  naturally  strikes  us  with  the  greatest  awe,  and 
carries  in  it  an  assurance,  that  those  things  which  we  are 
informed  of  by  it  are  of  the  utmost  importance  to  us  to 
be  informed  of.  Revelation  therefore,  as  it  demands  to 
be  received  with  a  regard  and  reverence  peculiar  to  itself; 
so  it  lays  us  under  obligations  of  a  like  peculiar  sort,  to 
communicate  the  light  of  it.    Further  still:  it  being  an 

*  Rev.  xxii.  U,  12.  f  Ecolus.  xv.  17. 


190 


A  SERMON  BEFORE  THE  SOCIETY  FOR 


indispensable  law  of  the  gospel,  that  Christians  should  unitt 
in  religious  communities,  and  these  being  intended  for 
repositories*  of  the  written  oracles  of  God,  for  standing 
memorials  of  religion  to  unthinking  men,  and  for  the 
propagation  of  it  in  the  world;  Christianity  is  very  parti- 
cularly to  be  considered  as  a  trust,  deposited  with  us  in 
behalf  of  others,  in  behalf  of  mankind,  as  well  as  for  our 
own  instruction.  No  one  has  a  right  to  be  called  a 
Christian,  who  doth  not  do  somewhat  in  his  station,  towards 
the  discharge  of  this  trust;  who  doth  not,  for  instance,  assist 
in  keeping  up  the  profession  of  Christianity  where  he  lives. 
And  it  is  an  obligation  but  little  more  remote,  to  assist  in 
doing  it  in  our  factories  abroad;  and  in  the  colonies  to 
which  we  are  related,  by  their  being  peopled  from  our  own 
mother-country,  and  subjects,  indeed  very  necessary  ones, 
to  the  same  government  with  ourselves:  and  nearer  yet 
is  the  obligation  upon  such  persons  in  particular,  as  have 
the  intercourse  of  an  advantageous  commerce  with  them. 

Of  these  our  colonies,  the  slaves  ought  to  be  considered 
as  inferior  members,  and  therefore  to  be  treated  as 
members  of  them;  and  not  merely  as  cattle  or  goods, 
the  property  of  their  masters.  Nor  can  the  highest 
property,  possible  to  be  acquired  in  these  servants,  cancel 
the  obligation  to  take  care  of  their  religious  instruction. 
Despicable  as  they  may  appear  in  our  eyes,  they  are  the 
creatures  of  God,  and  of  the  race  of  mankind,  for  whom 
Christ  died:  and  it  is  inexcusable  to  keep  them  in 
ignorance  of  the  end  for  which  they  were  made,  and  the 
means  whereby  they  may  become  partakers  of  the  general 
redemption.  On  the  contrary,  if  the  necessity  of  the 
case  requires,  that  they  may  be  treated  with  the  very 
utmost  rigour,  that  humanity  will  at  all  permit,  as  they 
certainly  are ;  and,  for  our  advantage,  made  as  miserable 
as  they  well  can  be  in  the  present  world;  this  surely 
heightens  our  obligation  to  put  them  into  as  advantageous 
a  situation  as  we  are  able,  with  regard  to  another. 

The  like  charity  we  owe  to  the  natives;  owe  to  them 
in  a  much  stricter  sense  than  we  are  apt  to  consider,  were 
it  only  from  neighbourhood,  and  our  having  gotten 
possessions  in  their-eountry.  For  incidental  circumstances 

*  p.  1SJ. 


THE  I* KOI  AGA'i  ION   Of'  THE  GOSPEL. 


191 


of  this  kind  appropriate  all  the  general  obligations  of 
charity  to  particular  persons;  and  make  such  and  such 
instances  of  it  the  duty  of  one  man  rather  than  another. 
We  are  most  strictly  bound  to  consider  these  poor  unin-1 
formed  creatures,  as  being  in  all  respects,  of  one  family 
with  ourselves,  the  family  of  mankind;  and  instruct  them 
in  our  common  salvation*  that  they  may  not  pass  through 
this  stage  of  their  being  like  brute  beasts;  but  be  put  into 
a  capacity  of  moral  improvements,  how  low  soever  they 
must  remain  as  to  others,  and  so  into  a  capacity  of 
qualifying  themselves  for  a  higher  state  of  life  hereafter. 

All  our  affairs  should  be  carried  on  in  the  fear  of  God, 
in  subserviency  to  his  honour,  and  the  good  of  mankind. 
And  thus  navigation  and  commerce  should  be  consecrated 
to  the  service  of  religion,  by  being  made  the  means  of 
propagating  it  in  every  country,  with  which  we  have  any 
intercourse.  And  the  more  widely  we  endeavour  to 
spread  its  light  and  influence,  as  the  forementioned 
circumstances,  and  others  of  a  like  kind,  open  and  direct 
our  way,  the  more  faithful  shall  we  be  judged  in  the 
discharge  of  that  trust,t  which  is  committed  to  us  as 
Christians,  when  our  Lord  shall  require  an  account  of  it. 

And  it  may  be  some  encouragement  to  cheerful 
perseverance  in  these  endeavours  to  observe,  not  only  that 
they  are  our  duty,  but  also  that  they  seem  the  means  of 
carrying  on  a  great  scheme  of  Providence,  which  shall 
certainly  be  accomplished.  For  the  everlasting  gospel 
shall  be  preached  to  every  nation.t  and  the  kingdoms  of 
this  world  sliall  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord,  and  of 
his  Christ.^ 

However,  we  ought  not  to  be  discouraged  in  this  good 
work,  though  its  future  success  were  less  clearly  foretold; 
and  though  its  effect  now  in  reforming  mankind  appeared 
to  be  as  little  as  our  adversaries  pretend.  They,  indeed, 
and  perhaps  some  others,  seem  to  require  more  than 
either  experience  or  Scripture  give  ground  to  hope  for, 
in  the  present  course  of  the  world.  But  the  bare  estab- 
lishment of  Christianity  in  any  place,  even  the  external 
form  and  profession  of  it,  is  a  very  important  and  valuable 
effect.    It  is  a  serious  call  upon  men  to  attend  to  the 

*  Judc  3.  f  p-  190-  t  Rev.  si".  6.  $  Rev.  xi.  15. 


192  A  SERMON  BEFORE  THE  SOCIETY  FOR 

natural  and  the  revealed  doctrine  of  religion.  It  is  a 
standing  publication  of  the  gospel,  and  renders  it  a  witness 
to  them:  and  by  this  means  the  purposes  of  Providence 
are  carrying  on,  with  regard  to  remote  ages,  as  well  as 
to  the  present.  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters  ;  for  thou 
shalt  find  it  after  many  days.  In  the  morning  sow  thy  seed, 
and  in  the  evening  withhold  not  thine  hand;  for  thou  knowest 
not  whether  shall  prosper,  either  this  or  that,  or  whether 
they  both  shall  be  alike  good*  We  can  look  but  a  very 
little  way  into  the  connexions  and  consequences  of  things : 
our  duty  is  to  spread  the  incorruptible  seed  as  widely  as 
we  can,  and  leave  it  to  God  to  give  the  increased  Yet 
thus  much  we  may  be  almost  assured  of,  that  the  gospel, 
wherever  it  is  planted,  will  have  its  genuine  effect  upon 
some  few;  upon  more  perhaps  than  are  taken  notice  of  in 
the  hurry  of  the  world.  There  are,  at  least,  a  few  persons 
in  every  country  and  successive  age,  scattered  up  and  down, 
and  mixed  among  the  rest  of  mankind;  who,  not  being 
corrupted  past  amendment,  but  having  within  them  the 
principles  of  recovery,  will  be  brought  to  a  moral  and 
religious  sense  of  things,  by  the  establishment  of  Chris- 
tianity where  they  live;  and  then  will  be  influenced  by 
the  peculiar  doctrines  of  it,  in  proportion  to  the  integrity 
of  their  minds,  and  to  the  clearness,  purity,  and 
evidence,  with  which  it  is  offered  them.  Of  these  our 
Lord  speaks  in  the  parable  of  the  sower,  as  understanding 
the  word;  and  bearing  fruit,  and  bringing  forth,  some  an 
hundred  fold,  some  sixty,  some  thirty.X  One  might  add, 
that  these  persons,  in  proportion  to  their  influence,  do  at 
present  better  the  state  of  things:  better  it  even  in  the 
civil  sense,  by  giving  some  check  to  that  avowed 
profligateness,  which  is  a  contradiction  to  all  order  and 
government;  and,  if  not  checked,  must  be  the  subversion 
of  it. 

These  important  purposes,  which  are  certainly  to  be 
expected  from  the  good  work  before  us,  may  serve  to 
show,  how  little  weight  there  is  in  that  objection  against 
it,  from  the  want  of  those  miraculous  assistances,  with 
which  the  first  preachers  of  Christianity  proved  its  truth. 
The  plain  state  of  the  case  is,  that  the  gospel,  though  it 

•  Eooies.  xl.  1,  ft.  +  1  Cor.  H.  6.  $  Matt.  xiii.  23. 


THE  PROPAGATION  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


193 


be  not  in  the  same  degree  a  witness  to  all,  who  have  it 
made  known  to  them;  yet  in  some  degree  is  so  to  all. 
Miracles  to  the  spectators  of  them  are  intuitive  proofs  of 
its  truth:  but  the  bare  preaching  of  it  is  a  serious 
admonition  to  all  who  hear  it,  to  attend  to  the  notices 
which  God  has  given  of  himself  by  the  light  of  nature ; 
and,  if  Christianity  be  preached  with  its  proper  evidence, 
to  submit  to  its  peculiar  discipline  and  laws;  if  not,  to 
inquire  honestly  after  its  evidence,  in  proportion  to  their 
capacities.  And  there  are  persons  of  small  capacities 
for  inquiry  and  examination,  who  yet  are  wrought  upon 
by  it,  to  deny  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  and  live  soberly, 
righteously,  and  godly  in  this  present  world*  in  expectation 
of  a  future  judgment  by  Jesus  Christ.  Nor  can  any 
Christian,  who  understands  his  religion,  object,  that  these 
persons  are  Christians  without  evidence:  for  he  cannot 
be  ignorant  who  has  declared,  that  if  any  man  will  do 
his  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine,  whether  it  he  of  God  J 
And,  since  the  whole  end  of  Christianity  is  to  influence  the 
heart  and  actions,  were  an  unbeliever  to  object  in  that 
manner,  he  should  be  asked,  whether  he  would  think  it 
to  the  purpose  to  object  against  persons  of  like  capacities, 
that  they  are  prudent  without  evidence,  when,  as  is  often 
the  case,  they  are  observed  to  manage  their  worldly  affairs 
with  discretion. 

The  design  before  us  being  therefore  in  general 
unexceptionably  good,  it  were  much  to  be  wished,  that 
serious  men  of  all  denominations  would  join  in  it.  And 
let  me  add,  that  the  foregoing  view  of  things  affords 
distinct  reasons  why  they  should.  For,  first,  by  so  doing, 
they  assist  in  a  work  of  the  most  useful  importance,  that 
of  spreading  over  the  world  the  Scripture  itself,  as  a  divine 
revelation :  and  it  cannot  be  spread  under  this  character, 
for  a  continuance,  in  any  country,  unless  Christian 
churches  be  supported  there;  but  will  always  more  or 
less,  so  long  as  such  churches  subsist:  and  therefore  their 
subsistence  ought  to  be  provided  for.  In  the  next  place, 
they  should  remember,  that  if  Christianity  is  to  be 
propagated  at  all,  which  they  acknowledge  it  should,  it 
must  be  in  some  particular  form  of  profession.  And 

*  Titus  ii.  12,  13.  +  John  vii.  17. 

N 


194 


A  SERMON  BEFORE  THE  SOCIETY  FOR 


though  they  think  ours  liable  to  objections,  yet  it  is 
possible  they  themselves  may  be  mistaken;  and  whether 
they  are  or  no,  the  very  nature  of  society  requires  some 
compliance  with  others.  And  whilst,  together  with  our 
particular  form  of  Christianity,  the  confessed  standard  of 
Christian  religion,  the  Scripture,  is  spread  ,  and  especially 
whilst  every  one  is  freely  allowed  to  stud)  it,  and  worship 
God  according  to  his  conscience:  the  evident  tendencv 
is,  that  genuine  Christianity  will  be  understood  and  prevail. 
Upon  the  whole  therefore,  these  persons  would  do  well 
to  consider,  how  far  they  can  with  reason  satisfy 
themselves  in  neg'Iectingwhat  is  certainly  right,  on  account 
of  what  is  doubtful,  whether  it  be  wrong;  and  when  the 
right  is  of  so  much  greater  consequence  one  way,  than 
the  supposed  wrong  can  be  to  the  other. 

To  conclude:  Atheistical  immorality  and  profaneness, 
surely,  is  not  better  in  itself,  nor  less  contrary  to  the 
design  of  revelation,  than  superstition.  Nor  is  super- 
stition the  distinguishing  vice  of  the  present  age,  either 
at  home  or  abroad.  But  if  our  colonies  abroad  are  left 
without  a  public  religion,  and  the  means  of  instruction, 
what  can  be  expected,  but  that,  from  living  in  a  continued 
forgttfulness  of  God,  they  will  at  length  cease  to  believe 
in  him;  and  so  sink  into  stupid  atheism?  And  there  is 
too  apparent  danger  of  the  like  horrible  depravity  at 
home,  without  the  like  excuse  for  it.  Indeed  amongst 
creatures  naturally  formed  for  religion,  yet  so  much  under 
the  powers  of  imagination,  so  apt  to  deceive  themselves, 
and  so  liable  to  be  deceived  by  others,  as  men  are; 
superstition  is  an  evil,  which  can  never  be  out  of  sight. 
But  even  against  this,  true  religion  is  a  great  security; 
and  the  only  one.  True  religion  takes  up  that  place  in 
the  mind,  which  superstition  would  usurp,  and  so  leaves 
little  room  for  it ;  and  likewise  lays  us  under  the  strongest 
obligations  to  oppose  it.  On  the  contrary,  the  danger  of 
superstition  cannot  but  be  increased  by  the  prevalence  of 
irreligion:  and  by  its  general  prevalence,  the  evil  will  be 
unavoidable.  For  the  common  people,  wanting  a  religion, 
will  of  course  take  up  with  almost  any  superstition,  which 
is  thrown  in  their  way:  and,  in  process  of  time,  amidst 
the  infinite  vicissitudes  of  the  political  world,  the  leaders 


THE  PROPAGATION  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


195 


of  parties  will  certainly  be  able  to  serve  themselves  ot 
that  superstition,  whatever  it  be,  which  is  getting  ground: 
and  will  not  fail  to  carry  it  on  to  the  utmost  length  their 
occasions  require.    The  general  nature  of  the  thing 
shows  this;  and  history  and  fact  confirm  it.    But  what 
brings  the  observation  home  to  ourselves  is,  that  the  great 
superstition  of  which  this  nation,  in  particular,  has  reason 
to  be  afraid,  is  imminent;  and  the  ways  in  which  we  may, 
very  supposably,  be  overwhelmed  by  it,  obvious.  It 
is  therefore  wonderful,  those  people  who  seem  to  think 
there  is  but  one  evil  in  life,  that  of  superstition,  should 
not  see,  that  atheism  and  profaneness  must  be  the 
introduction  of  it.    So  that  in  every  view  of  things,  and 
upon  all  accounts,  irrtligion  is  at  present  our  chief  danger. 
Now  the  several  religious  associations  among  us,  in  which 
many  good  men  have  of  late  united,  appear  to  be 
providentially  adapted  to  this  present  state  of  the  world. 
And  as  all  good  men  are  equally  concerned  in  promoting 
the  end  of  them ;  to  do  it  more  effectually,  they  ought  to 
unite  in  promoting  it:  which  yet  is  scarce  practicable 
upon  any  new  models,  and  quite  impossible  upon  such  as 
every  one  would  think  unexceptionable.    They  ought 
therefore  to  come  into  those  already  formed  to  their 
hands ;  and  even  take  advantage  of  any  occasion  of  union, 
to  add  mutual  force  to  each   other's  endeavours  in 
furthering  their  common  end ;  however  they  may  differ 
as  to  the  best  means,  or  any  thing  else  subordinate  to  it 
Indeed  there  are  well-disposed  persons,  who  much  want 
to  bo  admonished,  how  dangerous  a  thing  it  is,  to  dis- 
countenance what  is  good,  because  it  is  not  better ;  and 
hinder  what  they  approve,  by  raising  prejudices  against 
some  under-part  of  it.    Nor  can  they  assist  in  rectifying 
what  they  think  capable  of  amendment,  in  the  manner 
of  carrying  on  these  designs,  unless  they  will  join  in  the 
designs  themselves ;  which  they  must  acknowledge  to  be 
good  and  necessary  ones.    For  what  can  be  called  good 
and  necessary  by  Christians,  if  it  be  not  so,  to  support 
Christianity  where  it  must  otherwise  sink,  and  propagate 
it  where  it  must  otherwise  bo  unknown;  to  restrain 
abandoned,  barefaced  vice,  by  making  useful  examples, 
at  least  of  shame,  perhaps  of  repentance  ;  and  to  tak« 

K  8 


196 


A  SKIIMON,  ETC. 


care  of  the  education  of  such  children,  as  otherwise 
must  be,  even  educated  in  wickedness,  and  trained  up 
to  destruction?  Yet  good  men  separately  can  do  nothing, 
proportionable  to  what  is  wanting,  in  any  of  these  ways; 
but  their  common,  united  endeavours  may  do  a  great 
deal  in  all  of  them. 

And  besides  the  particular  purposes,  which  these 
several  religious  associations  serve,  the  more  general 
ones,  which  they  all  serve,  ought  not  to  be  passed  over. 
Every  thing  of  this  kind  is,  in  some  degree,  a  safeguard 
to  religion;  an  obstacle,  more  or  less,  in  the  way  of  those 
who  want  to  have  it  extirpated  out  of  the  world.  Such 
societies  also  contribute  more  especially  towards  keeping 
up  the  face  of  Christianity  among  ourselves ;  and  by  their 
obtaining  here,  the  gospel  is  rendered  more  and  more  a 
witness  to  us. 

And  if  it  were  duly  attended  to,  and  had  its  genuine 
influence  upon  our  minds,  there  would  be  no  need  of 
persuasions  to  impart  the  blessing:  nor  would  the  means 
of  doing  it  be  wanting.  Indeed  the  present  income  of 
this  Society,  which  depends  upon  voluntary  contributions, 
with  the  most  frugal  management  of  it,  can  in  no  wise 
sufficiently  answer  the  bare  purposes  of  our  charter:  but 
the  nation,  or  even  this  opulent  city  itself,  has  it  in  its 
power  to  do  so  very  much  more,  that  I  fear  the  mention 
of  it  may  be  thought  too  severe  a  reproof,  since  so  little 
is  done.  But  if  the  gospel  had  its  proper  influence  upon 
the  Christian  world  in  general,  as  it  is  the  centre  of  trade 
and  seat  of  learning,  a  very  few  ages,  in  all  probability, 
would  settle  Christianity  in  every  country,  without  mira- 
culous assistances.  For  scarce  any  thing  else,  I  am 
persuaded,  would  be  wanting  to  effect  this,  but  laying 
it  before  men  in  its  divine  simplicity,  together  with  an 
exemplification  of  it  in  the  lives  of  Christian  nations. 
T/ie  unlearned  and  unbelievers,  falling  down  on  their  faces, 
would  worship  God,  and  report  that  God  is  in  us  of  a 
truths 

•  1  Cor.  xiv.  24 


A  SERMON,  ETC. 


19% 


SERMON  II. 

PREACHED  BEFORE  THE  RIGHT  HON.  THE  LORD  MAYOR,  THE  COURT  Oi 
ALDERMEN,  THE  SHERIFFS,  AND  THE  GOVERNORS  OF  THE  SEVERAL 
HOSPITALS  OF  THE  CITY  OF  LONDON,  AT  THE  PARISH  CHURCH  OF  ST 
BRIDGET,  ON  MONDAY  IN  EASTER- WEEK,  1740. 

The  rich  and  poor  meet  together:  the  Lord  is  the  maker  of 
than  all. — Prov.  xxii.  "2. 

The  constitution  of  things  being  such,  that  the  labour  of 
one  man,  or  the  united  labour  of  several,  is  sufficient  to 
procure  more  necessaries  than  he  or  they  stand  in  need 
of,  which  it  may  be  supposed  was,  in  some  degree,  the 
case,  even  in  the  first  ages;  this  immediately  gave  room 
for  riches  to  arise  in  the  world,  and  for  men's  acquiring 
them  by  honest  means;  by  diligence,  frugality,  and 
prudent  management.  Thus  some  would  very  soon 
acquire  greater  plenty  of  necessaries  than  they  had 
occasion  for;  and  others  by  contrary  means,  or  by  cross 
accidents,  would  be  in  want  of  them:  and  he  who 
should  supply  their  wants  would  have  the  property  in  a 
proportionable  labour  of  their  hands;  which  he  would 
scarce  fail  to  make  use  of,  instead  of  his  own,  or  perhaps 
together  with  them,  to  provide  future  necessaries  in 
greater  plenty.  Riches  then  were  first  bestowed  upon 
the  world,  as  they  are  still  continued  in  it,  by  the  blessing 
of  God  upon  the  industry  of  men,  in  the  use  of  their 
understanding  and  strength.  Riches  themselves  have 
always  this  source;  though  the  possession  of  them  is 
conveyed  to  particular  persons  by  different  channels. 
Yet  still,  the  hand  of  the  diligent  maketh  richt*  and,  other 
circumstances  being  equal,  in  proportion  to  its  diligence. 

But  to  return  to  the  first  rich  man;  whom  we  left  in 
possession  of  dependants,  and  plenty  of  necessaries  for 
himself  and  them.  A  family  would  not  be  long  in  this 
state,  before  conveniences,  somewhat  ornamental,  and  foi 
entertainment,  would  be  wanted,  looked  for,  and  found 
out.  And,  by  degrees,  these  secondary  wants,  and 
inventions  for  the  supply  of  them,  the  fruits  of  leisure 

*  Prov.  X.  4. 


193  A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 

and  ease,  came  to  employ  much  of  men's  time  and  labour 
Hence  a  new  species  of  riches  came  into  the  world,  con- 
sisting of  things  which  it  might  have  done  well  enough 
without,  yet  thought  desirable,  as  affording  pleasure  to 
the  imagination  or  the  senses.  And  these  went  on 
increasing,  till,  at  length,  the  superfluities  of  life  took  in 
a  vastly  larger  compass  of  things  than  the  necessaries  of 
it.  Thus  luxury  made  its  inroad,  and  all  the  numerous 
train  of  evils  its  attendants;  of  which  poverty,  as  bad  a 
one  as  we  may  account  it,  is  far  from  being  the  worst. 
Indeed  the  hands  of  the  generality  must  be  employed: 
and  a  very  few  of  them  would  now  be  sufficient  tn 
provide  the  world  with  necessaries:  and  therefore  the 
rest  of  them  must  be  employed  about  what  may  be  call*  1 
superfluities;  which  could  not  be,  if  these  superfluities 
were  not  made  use  of.  Yet  the  desire  of  such  things, 
insensibly,  becomes  immoderate,  and  the  use  of  them, 
almost  of  course,  degenerates  into  luxury;  which,  in 
every  age,  has  been  the  dissipation  of  riches,  and,  in 
every  sense,  the  ruin  of  those  who  were  possessed 
of  them:  and  therefore  cannot  be  too  n  uch  guarded 
against  by  all  opulent  cities.  And  as  men  sink  into 
luxury,  as  much  from  fashion,  as  direct  inclination, 
the  richer  sort  together  may  easily  restrain  this  vice,  in 
almost  what  degree  they  please:  and  a  few  of  the  chief 
of  them  may  contribute  a  great  deal  towards  the  re- 
straining it. 

It  is  to  be  observed  further  concerning  the  progress 
of  riches,  that  had  they  continued  to  consist  only  in  the 
possession  of  the  things  themselves,  which  were  necessary, 
and  of  the  things  themselves,  which  were,  upon  their  own 
account,  otherwise  desirable;  this,  in  several  respects, 
must  have  greatly  embarrassed  trade  and  commerce; 
and  have  set  bounds  to  the  increase  of  riches  in  all  hands, 
as  well  as  have  confined  them  in  the  hands  of  a  few. 
But,  in  process  of  time,  it  was  agreed  to  substitute 
somewhat  more  lasting  and  portable,  which  should  pass 
every  where,  in  commerce,  for  real  natural  riches;  as 
sounds  had  before,  in  language,  been  substituted  for 
thoughts.  And  this  general  agreement  (by  what  means 
soever  it  became  general),  that  money  should  answer  all 


THE  LORD  MAYOR,  ETC. 


199 


things,  together  with  some  other  improvements,  gave  full 
scope  for  riches  to  increase  in  the  hands  of  particular 
persons,  and  likewise  to  circulate  into  more  hands.  Now 
this,  though  it  was  not  the  first  origin  of  covetousness, 
yet  it  gives  greater  scope,  encouragement,  and  tempta- 
tion to  covetousness  than  it  had  before.  And  there  is 
moreover  the  appearance,  that  this  artificial  kind  of  riches, 
money,  has  begot  an  artificial  kind  of  passion  for  them: 
both  which  follies  well-disposed  persons  must,  by  all 
means,  endeavour  to  keep  clear  of.  For  indeed  the  love 
of  riches  is  the  root  of  all  evil:*  though  riches  themselves 
may  be  made  instrumental  in  promoting  every  thing  that 
is  good. 

The  improvement  of  trade  and  commerce  has  made 
another  change,  just  hinted  at,  and  I  think  a  very  happy 
one,  in  the  state  of  the  world,  as  it  has  enlarged  the 
middle  rank  of  people:  many  of  which  are,  in  good 
measure,  free  from  the  vices  of  the  highest  and  the 
lowest  part  of  mankind.  Now  these  persons  must 
remember,  that  whether,  in  common  language,  they  do 
or  do  not  pass  under  the  denomination  of  rich,  yet  they 
really  are  so,  with  regard  to  the  indigent  and  necessitous; 
and  that  considering  the  great  numbers  which  make  up 
this  middle  rank  among  us,  and  how  much  they  mix  with 
the  poor,  they  are  able  to  contribute  very  largely  to  their 
relief,  and  have  in  all  respects  a  very  great  influence  over 
them. 

You  have  heard  now  the  origin  and  progress  of  what 
this  great  city  so  much  abounds  with,  riches;  as  far  as  I 
had  occasion  to  speak  of  these  things.  For  this  brief 
account  of  them  has  been  laid  before  you  for  the  sake  of 
the  good  admonitions  it  afforded.  Nor  will  the  admoni- 
tions be  thought  foreign  to  the  charities,  which  we  are 
endeavouring  to  promote.  For  these  must  necessarily 
be  less,  and  the  occasions  for  them  greater,  in  proportion 
as  industry  should  abate,  or  luxury  increase.  And  the 
temper  of  covetousness  is,  we  all  know,  directly  contrary 
to  that  of  charity,  and  eats  out  the  very  heart  of  it.  Then, 
lastly,  there  are  good  sort  of  people  who  really  want  to 
be  told,  that  they  are  included  in  the  admonitions  to  be 

*  Tim.  vi.  10. 


200 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


given  to  the  rich,  though  they  do  see  others  richer  than 
themselves. 

The  ranks  of  rich  and  poor  being  thus  formed,  they 
meet  together;  they  continue  to  make  up  one  society. 
The  mutual  want,  which  they  still  have  of  each  other, 
still  unites  them  inseparably.  But  they  meet  upon  a  foot 
of  great  inequality.  For,  as  Solomon  expresses  it  in 
brief,  and  with  much  force,  the  rich  ruleth  over  the  poor* 
And  this  their  general  intercourse,  with  the  superiority 
on  one  hand,  and  dependence  on  the  other,  are  in 
no  sort  accidental,  but  arise  necessarily  from  a  settled 
providential  disposition  of  things,  for  their  common  good. 
Here  then  is  a  real,  standing  relation  between  the  rich 
and  the  poor.  And  the  former  must  take  care  to  perform 
the  duties  belonging  to  their  part  of  it,  for  these  chiefly 
the  present  occasion  leads  me  to  speak  to,  from  regard 
to  Him,  who  placed  them  in  that  relation  to  the  poor, 
from  whence  those  duties  arise,  and  who  is  the  Maker  oj 
them  all. 

What  these  duties  are,  will  easily  be  seen,  and  the 
obligations  to  them  strongly  enforced,  by  a  little  further 
reflection  upon  both  these  ranks,  and  the  natural  situa- 
tion which  they  are  in  with  respect  to  each  other. 

The  lower  rank  of  mankind  go  on,  for  the  most  part, 
in  some  tract  of  living,  into  which  they  got  by  direction 
or  example;  and  to  this  their  understanding  and  discourse, 
as  well  as  labour,  are  greatly  confined.  Their  opinions 
of  persons  and  things  they  take  upon  trust.  Their  be- 
haviour has  very  little  in  it  original  or  of  home-growth; 
very  little  which  may  not  be  traced  up  to  the  influence 
of  others,  and  less  which  is  not  capable  of  being  changed 
by  such  influence.  Then  as  God  has  made  plentiful 
provision  for  all  his  creatures,  the  wants  of  all,  even  of 
the  poorest,  might  be  supplied,  so  far  as  it  is  fit  they 
should,  by  a  proper  distribution  of  it.  This  being  the 
condition  of  the  lower  part  of  mankind,  consider  now 
what  influence,  as  well  as  power,  their  superiors  must, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  have  over  them.  For  they 
can  instil  instruction,  and  recommend  it  in  a  peculiar 
manner  by  their  example,  and  enforce  it  still  further  with 

*  Prov.  Kxli.  7. 


THE  LORD  MAYOR,  ETC. 


201 


favour  and  discouragement  of  various  kinds.  And 
experience  shows,  that  they  do  direct  and  change  the 
course  of  the  world  as  they  please.  Not  only  the  civil 
welfare,  but  the  morals  and  religion  of  their  fellow 
creatures,  greatly  depend  upon  them ;  much  more  indeed 
than  they  would,  if  the  common  people  were  not  greatly 
wanting  to  their  duty.  All  this  is  evidently  true  of 
superiors  in  general;  superiors  in  riches,  authority,  and 
understanding,  taken  together.  And  need  I  say  how 
much  of  this  whole  superiority  goes  along  with  riches  ? 
It  is  no  small  part  of  it,  which  arises  out  of  riches  them- 
selves. In  all  governments,  particularly  in  our  own,  a 
good  share  of  civil  authority  accompanies  them.  Superior 
natural  understanding  may,  or  may  not:  but  when  it 
does  not,  yet  riches  afford  great  opportunities  for  im- 
provement, and  may  command  information;  which  things 
together  are  equivalent  to  natural  superiority  of  under- 
standing. 

But  I  am  sure  you  will  not  think  I  have  been  remind- 
ing you  of  these  advantages  of  riches  in  order  to  beget 
in  you  that  complacency  and  trust  in  them,  which  you 
find  the  Scripture  every  where  warning  you  against. 
No:  the  importance  of  riches,  this  their  power  and 
influence,  affords  the  most  serious  admonition  in  the 
world  to  those  who  are  possessed  of  them.  For  it 
shows,  how  very  blameable  even  their  carelessness  in 
the  use  of  that  power  and  influence  must  be:  since  it 
must  be  blameable  in  a  degree  proportionate  to  the 
importance  of  what  they  are  thus  careless  about. 

But  it  is  not  only  true,  that  the  rich  have  the  power 
of  doing  a  great  deal  of  good,  and  must  be  highly 
blameable  for  neglecting  to  do  it:  but  it  is  moreover 
true,  that  this  power  is  given  them  by  way  of  trust,  in 
order  to  their  keeping  down  that  vice  and  misery,  with 
which  the  lower  people  would  otherwise  be  quite  over- 
run. For  without  instruction  and  good  influence  they,  of 
course,  grow  rude  and  vicious,  and  reduce  themselves 
to  the  utmost  distresses;  often  to  very  terrible  ones 
without  deserving  much  blame.  And  to  these  must  be 
added  their  unavoidable  distresses,  which  yet  admit  of 
relief.     This  their  case  plainly  requires,  that  some 


202 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


natural  provision  should  be  made  for  it:  as  the  case  of 
children  does,  who,  if  left  to  their  own  ways,  would 
almost  infallibly  ruin  themselves.  Accordingly  Provi- 
dence has  made  provision  for  this  case  of  the  poor:  not 
only  by  forming  their  minds  peculiarly  apt  to  be  influ- 
enced by  their  superiors,  and  giving  those  superiors 
abilities  to  direct  and  relieve  them ;  but  also  by  putting 
the  latter  under  the  care  and  protection  of  the  former: 
for  this  is  plainly  done,  by  means  of  that  intercourse  of 
various  kinds  between  them,  which  in  the  natural  course 
of  things,  is  unavoidably  necessary.  In  the  primitive  ages 
of  the  world,  the  manner  in  which  the  rich  and  the  poor 
met  together,  was  in  families.  Rich  men  had  the  poor 
for  their  servants:  not  only  a  few  for  the  offices  about 
their  persons,  and  for  the  care  of  what  we  now  call 
domestic  affairs;  but  great  numbers  also  for  the  keeping 
of  their  cattle,  the  tillage  of  their  fields,  for  working  up 
their  wool  into  furniture  and  vestments  of  necessary 
use  as  well  as  ornament,  and  for  preparing  them  those 
many  things  at  home,  which  now  pass  through  a  mul- 
titude of  unknown  poor  h.mds  successively,  and  are  by 
them  prepared,  at  a  distance,  for  the  use  of  the  rich. 
The  instruction  of  these  large  families,  and  the  oversight 
of  their  morals  and  religion,  plainly  belonged  to  the 
heads  of  them.  And  that  obvious  humanitv,  which 
every  one  feels,  must  have  induced  them  to  be  kind  to 
all  whom  they  found  under  their  roof,  in  sickness  and  old 
age.  In  this  state  of  the  world,  the  relation  between 
the  rich  and  the  poor  could  not  but  be  universally  seen 
and  acknowledged.  Now  indeed  it  is  less  in  sight,  by 
means  of  artificial  methods  of  carrying  on  business, 
which  yet  are  not  blameable.  But  the  relation  still 
subsists,  and  the  obligations  arising  out  of  it;  and  cannot 
but  remain  the  same,  whilst  the  rich  have  the  same  want 
of  the  poor,  and  make  the  same  use  of  them,  though  not 
so  immediately  under  their  eye;  and  whilst  the  instruc- 
tion, and  manners,  and  good  or  bad  state  of  the  poor, 
really  depend  in  so  great  a  degree  upon  the  rich,  as  all 
these  things  evidently  do;  partly  in  their  capacity  ol 
magistrates,  but  very  much  also  in  their  private  capacity. 
In  short,  he  who  has  distributed  men  into  these  different 


THE  LORD  MAYOR,  ETC. 


203 


ranks,  and  at  the  same  time  united  them  into  one 
society,  in  such  sort  as  men  are  united,  has,  by  this 
constitution  of  things,  formally  put  the  poor  under  the 
superintendency  and  patronage  of  the  rich.  The  rich 
then  are  charged,  by  natural  providence,  as  much  as  by 
revealed  appointment,  with  the  care  of  the  poor:  not  to 
maintain  them  idle;  which,  were  it  possible  they  could 
be  so  maintained,  would  produce  greater  mischiefs  than 
those  which  charity  is  to  prevent;  but  to  take  care,  that 
they  maintain  themselves  by  their  labour,  or  in  case 
th  v  cannot,  then  to  relieve  them;  to  restrain  their 
vices,  and  form  their  minds  to  virtue  and  religion.  This 
is  a  trust,  yet  it  is  not  a  burden,  but  a  privilege,  annexed 
to  riches.  And  if  every  one  discharged  his  share  of  the 
trust  faithfully,  whatever  be  his  share  of  it,  the  world 
would  be  quite  another  place  from  what  it  is.  But  that 
cannot  be,  till  covetousness,  debauchery,  and  every  vice, 
be  unknown  among  the  rich.  Then,  and  not  before, 
will  the  manners  of  the  poor  be,  in  all  respects,  what 
they  ought  to  be,  and  their  distresses  find  the  full  relief, 
which  they  ought  to  find.  And,  as  far  as  things  of  this 
sort  can  be  calculated,  in  proportion  to  the  right  beha- 
viour of  persons  whom  God  has  placed  in  the  former  of 
these  ranks,  will  be  the  right  behaviour  and  good  condi- 
tion  of  those  who  are  cast  into  the  latter.  Every  one  of 
ability  then  is  to  be  persuaded  to  do  somewhat  towards 
this,  keeping  up  a  sense  of  virtue  and  religion  among 
the  poor,  and  relieving  their  wants;  each  as  much  as  he 
can  be  persuaded  to.  Since  the  generality  will  not  part 
with  their  vices,  it  were  greatly  to  be  wished,  they 
would  bethink  themselves,  and  do  what  good  they  are 
able,  so  far  only  as  is  consistent  with  them.  A  vicious 
rich  man  cannot  pass  through  life  without  doing  an 
incredible  deal  of  mischief,  were  it  only  by  his  example 
and  influence;  besides  neglecting  the  most  important 
obligations,  which  arise  from  his  superior  fortune.  Yet 
still,  the  fewer  of  them  he  neglects,  and  the  less  mischief 
he  does,  the  less  share  of  the  vices  and  miseries  of  his 
inferiors  will  lie  at  his  door:  the  less  will  be  his  guilt 
and  punishment.  But  conscientious  persons  of  this 
rank  must  revolve  again  and  again  in  their  minds,  how 


204 


A  SERMON  PREACHEB  BEFORE 


great  the  trust  is,  which  God  has  annexed  to  it.  They 
must  each  of  them  consider  impartially,  what  is  his  own 
particular  share  of  that  trust;  which  is  determined  by  his 
situation,  character,  and  fortune  together:  and  then  set 
himself  to  be  as  useful  as  he  can  in  those  particular  ways, 
which  he  finds  thus  marked  out  for  him.   This  is  exactly 

J 

the  precept  of  St  Peter:  As  every  man  hath  received  the 
gift,  even  so  minister  the  same  one  to  another,  as  good 
stewards  of  the  manifold  grace  of  God.*  And  as  rich 
men,  by  a  right  direction  of  their  greater  capacity,  may 
entitle  themselves  to  a  greater  reward;  so  by  a  wrong 
direction  of  it,  or  even  by  great  negligence,  they  may 
become  partakers  of  other  mens  sins,\  and  chargeable 
writh  other  men's  miseries.    For  if  there  be  at  all  anv 

J 

measures  of  proportion,  any  sort  of  regularity  and  order 
in  the  administration  of  things,  it  is  self-evident,  that  unto 
whomsover  much  is  given,  of  him  shall  much  be  required: 
and  to  whom  much  is  committed,  of  him  shall  more  be 
demanded. % 

But  still  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  every  man's 
behaviour  is  his  own  concern,  for  every  one  must  give 
account  of  his  own  works;  and  that  the  lower  people  are 
very  greatly  to  blame  in  yielding  to  any  ill  influence, 
particularly  following  the  ill  example  of  their  superiors ; 
though  these  are  more  to  blame  in  setting  them  such  an 
example.  For,  as  our  Lord  declares,  in  the  words 
immediately  preceding  those  just  mentioned,  that  servant 
which  knew  his  Lord's  will,  and  prepared  not  himself, 
neither  did  according  to  his  will,  shall  be  beaten  with  many 
stripes.  But  he  that  knew  not,  and  did  commit  things 
worthy  of  stripes,  shall  be  beaten  with  few  stripes. §  Vice 
is  itself  of  ill  desert,  and  therefore  shall  be  punished  in 
all ,  though  its  ill  desert  is  greater  or  less,  and  so  shall 
be  its  punishment,  in  proportion  to  men's  knowledge  of 
God  and  religion  :  but  it  is  in  the  most  literal  sense  true, 
that  he  who  knew  not  his  Lord's  will,  and  committed  things 
worthy  of  stripes,  shall  be  beaten,  though  with  few  stripes. 
For  it  being  the  discernment,  that  such  and  such  actions 
are  evil,  which  renders  them  vicious  in  him  who  does 
them,  ignorance  of  other  things,  though  it  may  lessen, 

•  1  P«*.  It.  10.     f  1  Tto-     **•      t  Lake  xH.  48,      f  Lake  zii  47, 4& 


THE  LORD  MAYOR,  ETC. 


205 


yet  it  cannot  remit  the  punisliment  of  such  actions  in  a 
just  administration,  because  it  cannot  destroy  the  guilt  of 
them  :  much  less  can  corrupt  deference  and  regard  to  the 
example  of  superiors  in  matters  of  plain  duty  and  sin 
have  this  effect.  Indeed  the  lowest  people  know  very 
tvell,  that  such  ill  example  affords  no  reason  why  they 
should  do  ill;  but  they  hope  it  will  be  an  excuse  for  them, 
and  thus  deceive  themselves  to  their  ruin:  which. is  a 
forcible  reason  why  their  superiors  should  not  lay  this 
snare  in  their  way. 

All  this  approves  itself  to  our  natural  understanding ; 
though  it  is  by  means  of  Christianity  chiefly,  that  it  is 
thus  enforced  upon  our  consciences.  And  Christianity, 
as  it  is  more  than  a  dispensation  of  goodness,  in  the 
general  notion  of  goodness,  even  a  dispensation  of 
forgiveness,  of  mercy  and  favour  on  God's  part,  does  in 
a  peculiar  manner  heighten  our  obligations  to  charity 
among  ourselves.  In  this  was  manifested  the  love  of  God 
towards  us, — that  he  sent  his  Son  to  be  the  propitiation  for 
our  sins.  Beloved,  if  God  so  loved  us,  we  ought  also  to 
love  one  another*  With  what  unanswerable  force  is  that 
question  of  our  Lord  to  be  applied  to  every  branch  of  this 
duty,  Shouldest  not  thou  also  have  compassion  on  thy  fellow- 
servant,  even  as  I had  pity  on  thee  ?\  Andean  there  be 
a  stronger  inducement  to  endeavour  the  reformation  of 
the  world,  and  bringing  it  to  a  sense  of  virtue  and  religion, 
than  the  assurance  given  us,  that  he  which  converteth  a 
sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way,  and,  in  like  manner,  he 
also  who  preventeth  a  person's  being  corrupted,  by  taking 
care  of  his  education,  shall  save  a  soul  from  death,  and 
hide  a  multitude  of  sins?t 

These  things  lead  us  to  the  following  observations  on 
the  several  charities,  which  are  the  occasion  of  these 
annual  solemnities. 

1.  What  we  have  to  bestow  in  charity  being  a  trust, 
we  cannot  discharge  it  faithfully,  without  taking  some 
care  to  satisfy  ourselves  in  some  degree,  that  we  bestow 
it  upon  the  proper  objects  of  charity.  One  hears  persons 
complaining,  that  it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  who  are 
such;  yet  often  seeming  to  forget,  that  this  is  a  reason 

*  1  John  1?.  0.  10,  11.  f  Matt,  xviji.  33.  t  i*mt»  v  SO. 


206 


A  SERMON  PKF.ACHED  BEFORE 


for  using  their  best  endeavours  to  do  it.  And  others 
make  a  custom  of  giving  to  idle  vagabonds  :  a  kind  of 
charity,  very  improperly  so  called,  which  one  really 
wonders  people  can  allow  themselves  in  ;  merely  to  be 
relieved  from  importunity,  or  at  best  to  gratify  a  false  good 
nature.  For  they  cannot  but  know,  that  it  is,  at  least, 
very  doubtful,  whether  what  they  thus  give  will  not 
immediately  be  spent  in  riot  and  debauchery.  Or 
suppose  it  be  not,  yet  still  they  know,  they  do  a  great 
deal  of  certain  mischief,  by  encouraging  this  shameful 
trade  of  begging  in  the  streets,  and  all  the  disorders 
which  accompany  it.  But  the  charities  towards  which 
I  now  ask  your  assistance,  as  they  are  always  open,  so 
every  one  may  contribute  to  them  with  full  assurance, 
that  he  bestows  upon  proper  objects,  and  in  general  that 
he  does  vastly  more  good,  than  by  equal  sums  given 
separately  to  particular  persons.  For  that  these  charities 
really  have  these  advantages,  has  been  fully  made  out, 
by  some  who  have  gone  before  me  in  the  duty  I  am 
discharging,  and  by  the  reports  annually  published  at 
this  time. 

Here  the  Report  annexed  was  read. 

Let  us  thank  God  for  these  charities,  in  behalf  of  the 
poor;  and  also  on  our  own  behalf,  as  they  give  us  such 
clear  opportunities  of  doing  good.  Indeed  without  them, 
vice  and  misery,  of  which  there  is  still  so  much,  would 
abound  so  much  more  in  this  populous  city,  as  to  render 
it  scarce  an  habitable  place. 

2.  Amongst  the  peculiar  advantages  of  public  charities 
above  private  ones,  is  also  to  be  mentioned,  that  they  are 
examples  of  great  influence.  They  serve  for  perpetual 
memorials  of  what  I  have  been  observing,  of  the  relation 
which  subsists  between  the  rich  and  the  poor,  and  the 
duties  which  arise  out  of  it.  They  are  standing  admoni- 
tions to  all  within  sight  or  hearing  of  them,  to  go  and  do 
likewise*  Educating  poor  children  in  virtue  and  religion, 
relieving  the  sick,  and  correcting  offenders  in  order  to 
their  amendment,  are,  in  themselves,  some  of  the  very 
best  of  good  works.  These  charities  would  indeed  be 
the  glory  of  your  city,  though  thsir  influence  were 

*  Luke  x.  37. 


THE  LORD  MAYOR,  ETC. 


207 


confined  to  it.  But  important  as  they  are  in  themselves, 
their  importance  still  increases,  by  their  being  examples 
to  the  rest  of  the  nation;  which,  in  process  of  time,  of 
course  copies  after  the  metropolis.  It  has  indeed  already 
imitated  every  one  of  these  charities;  for  of  late,  the 
most  difficult  and  expensive  of  them,  hospitals  for  the 
sick  and  wounded,  have  been  established;  some  within 
your  sight,  others  in  remote  parts  of  the  kingdom.  You 
will  give  me  leave  to  mention  particularly  that*  in  its 
second  trading  city;  which  is  conducted  with  such 
disinterested  fidelity  and  prudence,  as  I  dare  venture  to 
compare  with  yours.  Again,  there  are  particular  persons 
very  blameably  unactive  and  careless,  yet  not  without 
good  dispositions,  who,  by  these  charities,  are  reminded 
of  their  duty,  and  provoked  to  love  and  to  good  works  A 
And  let  me  add,  though  one  is  sorry  any  should  want  so 
slight  a  reason  for  contributing  to  the  most  excellent 
designs,  yet  if  any  are  supposed  to  do  so  merely  of  course, 
because  they  see  others  do  it,  still  they  help  to  support 
these  monuments  of  charity,  which  are  a  continued 
admonition  to  the  rich,  and  relief  to  the  poor:  and  herein 
all  good  men  rejoice,  as  St  Paul  speaks  of  himself  in  a 
like  case,  yea,  and  will  rejoice.t 

3.  As  all  human  schemes  admit  of  improvement,  all 
public  charities,  methinks,  should  be  considered  as 
standing  open  to  proposals  for  it ;  that  the  whole  plan  of 
them,  in  all  its  parts,  may  be  brought  to  as  great  perfec- 
tion as  is  possible.  Now  it  should  seem,  that  employing 
some  share  of  the  children's  time  in  easy  labour,  suitable 
to  their  age,  which  is  done  in  some  of  our  charity  schools, 
might  be  done  in  most  others  of  them,  with  very  good 
effect;  as  it  is  in  all  those  of  a  neighbouring  kingdom. 
Then  as  the  only  purposes  of  punishments  less  than 

*  As  it  is  of  very  particular  benefit  to  those,  who  ought  always  to  be  looked  upon 
with  particular  favour  by  us,  (  mean  our  seamen  ;  so  likewise  it  is  of  very  extensive 
benefit  U>  the  large  tracts  of  country  west  and  north  of  it.  Then  the  medicinal  waters 
near  the  city  render  it  a  stiH  more  proper  situation  for  an  infirmary.  And  so  likewise 
does  its  neighbourhood  to  the  Hath  hospital.  For  it  may  well  be  supposed,  that  some 
p.)or  objects  will  be  sent  thither  in  hopes  of  relief  from  the  Bath  waters,  whose  case 
limy  afterwards  be  found  to  require  the  assistance  of  physic  or  surgery  :  and  on  the 
other  hand,  that  some  may  be  sent  to  our  infirmary  for  help  from  (hose  arts,  whose 
case  may  be  found  to  require  the  Bath  waters.  So  that  if  I  am  not  greatly  partial, 
the  Bristol  infirmary  as  much  deserves  encouragement  as  any  charitable  foundation  in 
the  kingdom.  f  Heb.  x.  24.  %  Phil.  i.  18. 


208 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


capital  are  to  reform  the  offenders  themselves,  and  warn 
the  innocent  by  their  example,  every  thing  which  should 
contribute  to  make  this  kind  of  punishments  answer  these 
purposes  better  than  it  does,  would  be  a  great  improve- 
ment. And  whether  it  be  not  a  thing  practicable,  and 
what  would  contribute  somewhat  towards  it,  to  exclude 
utk  rly  all  sorts  of  revel-mirth  from  places  where  offenders 
are  con  fine  d,  to  separate  the  young  from  the  old,  and 
force  them  both,  in  solitude,  with  labour  and  low  diet,  to 
make  the  experiment,  how  far  their  natural  strength  of 
mind  can  support  them  under  guilt  and  shame  and 
poverty;  this  may  deserve  consideration.  Then  again, 
some  religious  instruction  particularly  adapted  to  their 
condition  would  as  properly  accompany  those  punishments 
which  are  intended  to  reform,  as  it  does  capital  ones. 
God  forbid  that  I  should  be  understood  to  discourage  the 
provision  which  ;s  made  for  it  in  this  latter  case:  I 
heartily  wish  it  were  better  than  it  is;  especially  since  it 
may  well  be  supposed,  as  the  state  of  religion  is  at  present 
among  us,  that  some  condemned  malefactors  may  have 
never  had  the  doctrine  of  the  gospel  enforced  upon  their 
consciences.  But  since  it  must  be  acknowledged  of 
greater  consequence,  in  a  religious  as  well  as  civil  respect, 
how  persons  live,  than  how  they  die;  it  cannot  but  be 
even  more  incumbent  on  us  to  endeavour,  in  all  ways,  to 
reclaim  those  offenders  who  are  to  return  again  into  the 
world,  than  those  who  are  to  be  removed  out  of  it:  and 
the  only  effectual  means  of  reclaiming  them,  is  to  instil 
into  them  a  principle  of  religion.  If  persons  of  authority 
and  influence  would  take  things  of  this  and  a  like  kind 
under  their  consideration,  they  might  perhaps  still 
improve  those  charities ;  which  are  already,  I  truly  believe, 
under  a  better  management  than  any  other  of  so  large  a 
compass  in  the  world.  But, 

4.  With  regard  to  the  two  particular  branches  of  them 
last  mentioned,  I  would  observe,  that  our  laws  and  whole 
constitution,  civil  and  ecclesiastical,  go  more  upon  sup- 
position of  an  equality  amongst  mankind,  than  the 
constitution  and  laws  of  other  countries.  Now  this 
plainly  requires  that  more  particular  regard  should  be 
had  to  the  education  of  the  lower  people  here,  than  in 


THE  LORD  MAYOR,  ETC. 


209 


places,  where  they  are  born  slaves  of  power,  and  to  be 
made  slaves  of  superstition.  It  is,  I  suppose,  acknowledged, 
that  they  have  greater  liberty  here,  than  they  have  any 
where  else  in  the  world.  But  unless  care  be  taken  for 
giving  them  some  inward  principle,  to  prevent  their  abus- 
ing this  greater  liberty  which  is  their  birthright,  can  we 
expect  it  will  prove  a  blessing  to  them?  or  will  they  not 
in  all  probability  become  more  dissolute,  or  more  wild 
and  extravagant,  whatever  wrong  turn  they  happen  to 
take,  than  people  of  the  same  rank  in  other  countries? 

5.  Let  me  again  remind  you  of  the  additional  reason, 
which  persons  of  fortune  have  to  take  particular  care  of 
their  whole  behaviour,  that  it  be  in  all  respects  good  and 
exemplary,  upon  account  of  the  influence  which  it  will 
have  upon  the  manners  of  their  inferiors.    And  pray 
observe  how  strictly  this  is  connected  with  the  occasion 
of  our  present  meeting;  how  much  your  good  behaviour 
in  private  life  will  contribute  to  promote  the  good  design 
of  all  these  charities ;  and  how  much  the  contrary  would 
tend  to  defeat  it,  and  even  to  produce  the  evils  which 
they  are  intended  to  prevent  or  to  remedy.  Whatever 
care  be  taken  in  the  education  of  these  poor  children  at 
school,  there  is  always  danger  of  their  being  corrupted, 
when  they  come  from  it.    And  this  danger  is  greater,  in 
proportion  to  the  greater  wickedness  of  the  age  they  are 
to  pass  through.    But  if,  upon  their  coming  abroad  into 
the  world,  they  find  the  principles  of  virtue  and  religion 
recommended  by  the  example  of  their  superiors,  and  vice 
and  irreligion  really  discountenanced,  this  will  confirm 
them  in  the  good  principles  in  which  they  have  been 
brought  up,  and  give  the  best  ground  to  hope  they  will 
never  depart  from  them.    And  the  like  is  to  be  said  of 
offenders,  who  may  have  had  a  sense  of  virtue  and 
religion  wrought  in  them,  under  the  discipline  of  laboui 
and  confinement.     Again  ;    dissolute  and  debauched 
persons  of  fortune  greatly  increase  the  general  corruption 
of  manners;  and  this  is  what  increases  want  and  misery 
of  all  kinds.    So  that  they  may  contribute  largely  to  any 
or  all  of  these  charities,  and  yet  undo  but  a  very  small 
part  of  the  mischief  which  they  do,  by  th(  ir  example,  as 
•  well  as  in  other  ways.     But  still  tins  mischief  which  they 

o 


210 


A  SERMON,  ETC. 


do,  suppose  by  their  example,  is  an  additional  reason 
why  they  should  contribute  to  them;  even  in  justice  to 
particular  persons,  in  whose  ruin  they  may  have  an 
unknown  share  of  guilt;  or  however  injustice  to  society 
in  general;  for  which  they  will  deserve  commendation, 
how  blameable  soever  they  are  for  the  other.  And 
indeed  amidst  the  dark  prospect  before  us,  from  that 
profligateness  of  manners,  and  scorn  of  religion,  which 
so  generally  abound,  this  good  spirit  of  charity  to  the 
poor  discovering  itself  in  so  great  a  degree,  upon  these 
occasions,  and  likewise  in  the  late  necessitous  time, 
even  amongst  persons  far  from  being  blameless  in  other 
respects ;  this  cannot  but  afford  hopes,  that  we  are  not 
given  over  by  Providence,  and  also  that  they  themselves 
will  at  length  consider,  and  not  go  on  contributing,  by 
the  example  of  their  vices,  to  the  introduction  of  that 
distress,  which  they  so  commendably  relieve  by  their 
liberality. 

To  conclude:  Let  our  charity  towards  men  be  exalted 
into  piety  towards  God,  from  the  serious  consideration, 
that  we  are  all  his  creatures;  a  consideration  which 
enforces  that  duty  upon  our  consciences,  as  we  have  any 
regard  to  him.  This  kind  of  adjuration,  and  a  most 
solemn  one  it  is,  one  often  hears  profaned  by  a  very 
unworthy  sort  of  people,  when  they  ask  relief  for  God's 
sake.  But  surely  the  principle  itself,  which  contains  in 
it  every  thing  great,  and  just,  and  good,  is  grievously 
forgotten  among  us.  To  relieve  the  poor  for  God's  sake, 
is  to  do  it  in  conformity  to  the  order  of  nature,  and  to 
his  will,  and  his  example,  who  is  the  Author  and  Gover- 
nor of  it;  and  in  thankful  remembrance,  that  all  we 
have  is  from  his  bounty.  It  is  to  do  it  in  his  behalf,  and 
as  to  him.  For  he  that  hath  pity  upon  the  poor  lendeth 
unto  the  Lord:*  and  our  Saviour  has  declared,  that  he 
will  take  as  given  to  himself,  what  is  given  in  a  well- 
chosen  charity. t  Lastly,  it  is  to  do  it  under  a  sense  of 
the  account  which  will  be  required  of  what  is  committed 
to  our  trust,  when  the  rich  and  poor,  who  meet  here  upon 
terms  of  so  great  inequality,  shall  meet  hereafter  upon  a 
level,  before  him  who  is  the  Maker  of  them  all* 

*  Pro-,  xix.  17.  ,        +  Matt.  jucv.  40. 


A  SERMON,  ETC. 


211 


SERMON  III. 

PKEACHED  BEFORE  THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS,  IN  THE  ABBEY-CHURCH  OF  WEST- 
MINSTER, ON  FRIDAY,  JANUARY  30,  1740-41,  BEING  THE  DAY  APPOINTED  TO 
BE  OBSERVED  AS  THE  DAY  OF  THE  MARTYRDOM  OF  KING  CHARLES  I. 

And  not  using  your  liberty  for  a  cloak  of  maliciousness ,  but  as  the 
servants  of  God. — 1  Peter  ii.  1G. 

A  history  so  full  of  important  and  interesting  events  as 
!:hat  which  this  day  recalls  annually  to  our  thoughts, 
cannot  but  afford  them  very  different  subjects  for  their 
most  serious  and  useful  employment.  But  there  seems 
none  which  it  more  naturally  leads  us  to  consider  than 
that  of  hypocrisy,  as  it  sets  before  us  so  many  examples 
of  it;  or  which  will  yield  us  more  practical  instruction, 
as  these  examples  so  forcibly  admonish  us,  not  only  to 
be  upon  our  guard  against  the  pernicious  effects  of  this 
vice  in  others,  but  also  to  watch  over  our  own  hearts, 
against  every  thing  of  the  like  kind  in  ourselves:  for 
hypocrisy,  in  the  moral  and  religious  consideration  of 
things,  is  of  much  larger  extent  than  every  one  may 
imagine. 

In  common  language,  which  is  formed  upon  the  com- 
mon intercourses  amongst  men,  hypocrisy  signifies  little 
more  than  their  pretending  what  they  really  do  not 
mean,  in  order  to  delude  one  another.  But  in  Scripture, 
which  treats  chiefly  of  our  behaviour  towards  God  and 
our  own  consciences,  it  signifies,  not  only  the  endeavour 
to  delude  our  fellow  creatures,  but  likewise  insincerity 
towards  him,  and  towards  ourselves.  And  therefore, 
according  to  the  whole  analogy  of  Scripture  language, 
to  use  liberty  as  a  cloak  of  maliciousness  *  must  be  under- 

*  The  hypocrisy  laid  to  the  charge  of  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees,  in  Matt.  xvi.  at 
the  beginning,  and  in  Luke  xii.  54,  is  determinately  this,  that  their  vicious  passions 
Minded  them  so  as  to  prevent  their  discerning  the  evidence  of  our  Saviour's  mission  ; 
though  no  more  understanding  was  necessary  to  discern  it,  than  what  they  had,  and 
nir.de  use  of  in  common  matters.  Here  they  are  called  hypocrites  merely  upon 
account  of  their  insincerity  towards  God  and  their  own  consciences,  and  not  at  all 
upon  account  of  any  insincerity  towards  men.  This  last  indeed  is  included  in  that 
general  hypocrisy,  which,  throughout  the  gospels,  is  represented  as  their  distinguished 
character ;  but  the  former  is  as  much  included.  For  they  were  not  men,  who,  without 
any  belief  at  all  of  religion,  put  on  the  appearance  of  it  only  in  order  to  deceive  the 
world :  on  Ihe  contrary,  they  believed  their  religion,  and  were  sealous  in  it.  But  theil 

O  3 


212 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


stood  to  mean,  not  only  endeavouring  to  impost  upon 
others,  by  indulging  wayward  passions,  or  carrying  on 
indirect  designs,  under  pretences  of  it;  but  also  excusing 
and  palliating  such  things  to  ourselves;  serving  ourselves 
of  such  pretences  to  quiet  our  own  minds  in  any  thing 
which  is  wrong. 

Liberty  in  the  writings  of  the  New  Testament,  for  the 
most  part,  signifies,  being  delivered  from  the  bondage  of 
the  ceremonial  law;  or  of  sin  and  the  devil,  which  St 
Paul  calls  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God* 
This  last  is  a  progressive  state :  and  the  perfection  of  it, 
whether  attainable  in  this  world  or  not,  consists  in  that 
perfect  lovej  which  St  John  speaks  of;  and  which,  as  it 
implies  an  entire  coincidence  of  our  wills  with  the  will 
of  God,  must  be  a  state  of  the  most  absolute  freedom,  in 
the  most  literal  and  proper  sense.  But  whatever  St 
Peter  distinctly  meant  by  this  word,  liberty,  the  text  gives 
occasion  to  consider  any  kind  of  it,  which  is  liable  to  the 
abuse  he  here  warns  us  against.  However,  it  appears 
that  he  meant  to  comprehend  that  liberty,  were  it  more 

religion,  which  they  believed,  and  were  zealous  in,  was  in  its  nature  hypocritical : 
for  it  was  the  form,  not  the  reality;  it  allowed  them  in  immoral  practices;  and 
indeed  was  itself  in  some  respects  immoral,  as  they  indulged  their  pride  and  uncha- 
ritableness  under  the  notion  of  zeal  for  it.  See  Jer.  1x.  6,  Psalm  lsxviii.  36.  Job  iii.  ty. 
and  Matt.  xv.  7 — 14.  and  xxiii.  13,  16,  19,  24,  26.  where  hypocrite  and  blind  are  um>iI 
promiscuously.  Again,  the  Scripture  speaks  of  the  decehfulness  of  sin ;  and  its 
deceiving  those  who  are  guilty  of  it :  Heb.  iii.  13.  Eph.  iv.  2i.  Rom.  vii.  11.  of  men's 
acting  as  if  they  could  deceive  and  mock  God:  Is.  xxix.  15.  Acts  v.  3.  Gal  vi.  7.  of 
their  blinding  their  own  eyes:  Matt.  iii.  15.  Acts  xxviii.  27.  and  deceiving  themselves; 
which  is  quite  a  different  thing  from  being  deceived.  1  Cor.  iii.  18.  I  John  i.  8. 
Galatians  vi.  3.  James  i.  22,  26.  Many  more  coincident  passages  might  be  men- 
tioned :  but  I  will  add  only  one.  In  2  Thess.  ii.  it  is  foretold  that  by  means  of  some 
force,  some  energy  of  delusion,  men  should  believe  the  lie  which  is  there  treated  of: 
this  force  of  delusion  is  not  any  thing  without  them,  but  somewhat  within  them,  which 
it  is  expressly  said  they  should  bring  upon  themselves,  by  not  receiving  the  love  of  the 
truth,  but  having  pleasure  in  unrighteousness.  Answering  to  all  this  is  that  w  i  y 
remarkable  passage  of  our  Lord,  Matt.  vi.  22,  23.  Luke  xi.  34,  35.  and  that  admoni 
Lion  repeated  fourteen  times  in  the  New  Testament  ;  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let 
him  hear.  And  the  ground  of  this  whole  manner  of  considering  things;  for  it  is  not 
to  be  spoken  of  as  only  a  peculiar  kind  of  phraseology,  but  is  a  most  accurate  and 
strictly  just  manner  of  considering  characters  and  moral  conduct ;  the  ground  of  it 
I  say,  is,  that  when  persons  will  not  be  influenced  by  such  evidence  in  religion  as 
they  act  upon  in  the  daily  course  of  life,  or  when  their  notions  of  religion  (and  I 
might  add  of  virtue)  are  in  any  sort  reconcileable  with  what  is  vicious,  it  is  some 
fat.lty  negligence  or  prejudice  which  thus  deludes  them  ;  in  very  different  ways, 
perhaps,  an£  very  different  degrees.  But  when  any  one  is  thus  deluded  through  Ins 
own  fault,  in  whatever  way  or  degree  it  is,  he.  deludes  himself.  And  this  is  as  pro- 
perly hypocrisy  towards  himself,  as  deluding  the  world  is  hypocrisy  towards  the 
world:  and  he  who  is  guilty  of  it  acts  as  if  he  could  deceive  and  mock  God;  and 
therefore  is  an  hypocrite  towards  him,  in  as  strict  and  literal  a  sense  as  the  nature  oi 
the  subject  will  admit. 

*  Rom.  viii.  21.  f  1  John  iv.  18. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS. 


213 


or  less,  which  they  to  whom  he  was  writing  enjoyed  under 
civil  government:  for  of  civil  government  he  is  speaking 
just  before  and  afterwards:  Submit  yourselves  to  every 
ordinance  of  man  for  the  Lord's  sake:  whether  it  be  to  the 
king,  as  supreme;  or  unto  governors,  as  unto  them  that  are 
sent  by  him.  For  so  is  the  xcill  of  God,  that  with  well- 
doing, of  which  dutiful  behaviour  towards  authority  is  a 
very  material  instance,  ye  may  put  to  silence  the  ignorance 
of  foolish  men:*  as  free,  perhaps  in  distinction  from  the 
servile  state,  of  which  he  speaks  afterwards,  and  not 
using  your  liberty  for  a  cloak  of  maliciousness, t  of  any 
thing  wrong,  for  so  the  word  signifies;  and  therefore 
comprehends  petulance,  affection  of  popularity,  with  any 
other  like  frivolous  turn  of  mind,  as  well  as  the  more 
hateful  and  dangerous  passions,  such  as  malice,  or  am- 
bition ;  for  all  of  which  liberty  may  equally  be  used  as  a 
cloak.  The  apostle  adds,  but  as  the  servants  of  God:  as 
free — but  as  his  servants,  who  requires  dutiful  submission 
to  every  ordinance  of  man,  to  magistracy ;  and  to  whom 
we  are  accountable  for  our  manner  of  using  the  liberty 
we  enjoy  under  it;  as  well  as  for  all  other  parts  of  our 
behaviour.  Not  using  your  liberty  as  a  cloak  of  malici- 
ousness, but  as  the  servants  of  God. 

Here  are  three  things  offered  to  our  consideration: 
First,  A  general  supposition,  that  what  is  wrong  cannot 
be  avowed  in  its  proper  colours,  but  stands  in  need  of 
some  cloak  to  be  thrown  over  it:  Secondly,  A  particular 
one,  that  there  is  danger,  some  singular  danger,  of  liberty's 
being  made  use  of  for  this  purpose:  Lastly,  An  admoni- 
tion not  to  make  this  ill  use  of  our  libertv,  but  to  use  it 
as  the  servants  of  God. 

I.  Here  is  a  general  supposition,  that  what  is  wrong 
cannot  be  avowed  in  its  proper  colours,  but  stands  in 
need  of  some  cloak  to  be  thrown  over  it.  God  has 
constituted  our  nature,  and  the  nature  of  society,  after 
such  a  manner,  that  generally  speaking,  men  cannot 
encourage  or  support  themselves  in  wickedness  upon  the 
foot  of  there  being  no  difference  between  right  and  wrong, 
or  by  a  direct  avowal  of  wrong;  but  by  disguising  it,  and 
endeavouring  to  spread  over  it  some  colours  of  right. 

*  1  Pet.  ii.  13—15.  f  Ver.  W. 


214 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


And  they  do  this  in  every  capacity  and  every  respect, 
in  which  there  is  a  right  or  a  wrong.  They  do  it,  not 
only  as  social  creatures  under  civil  government,  but  also 
as  moral  agents  under  the  government  of  God ;  in  one 
case  to  make  a  proper  figure  in  the  world,  and  delude 
their  fellow  creatures;  in  the  other  to  keep  peace  within 
themselves,  and  delude  their  own  consciences.  And  the 
delusion  in  both  cases  being  voluntary,  is,  in  Scripture, 
called  by  one  name,  and  spoken  against  in  the  same 
manner:  though  doubtless  they  are  much  more  explicit 
with  themselves,  and  more  distinctly  conscious  of  what 
they  are  about,  in  one  case  than  in  the  other. 

The  fundamental  laws  of  all  governments  are  virtuous 
ones,  prohibiting  treachery,  injustice,  cruelty:  and  the 
law  of  reputation  enforces  those  civil  laws,  by  rendering 
these  vices  everywhere  infamous,  and  the  contrary 
virtues  honourable  and  of  good  report.  Thus  far  the 
constitution  of  society  is  visibly  moral:  and  hence  it  is, 
that  men  cannot  live  in  it  without  taking  care  to  cover 
those  vices  when  they  have  them,  and  make  some 
profession  of  the  opposite  virtues,  fidelity,  justice,  kind 
regard  to  others,  when  they  have  them  not:  but  espe- 
cially is  this  necessary  in  order  to  disguise  and  colour 
over  indirect  purposes,  which  require  the  concurrence 
of  several  persons. 

Now  all  false  pretences  of  this  kind  are  to  be  called 
hypocritical,  as  being  contrary  to  simplicity;  though  not 
always  designed,  properly  speaking,  to  beget  a  false 
belief.  For  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  they  are  often 
made  without  any  formal  intention  to  have  them  be- 
lieved, or  to  have  it  thought  that  there  is  any  reality 
under  these  pretences.  Many  examples  occur  of  verbal 
professions  of  fidelity,  justice,  public  regards,  in  cases 
where  there  could  be  no  imagination  of  their  being 
believed.  And  what  other  account  can  be  s>:iven  ol 
these  merely  verbal  professions,  but  that  thev  were 
thought  the  proper  language  for  the  public  ear:  and 
made  in  business  for  the  very  same  kind  of  reasons  as 
civility  is  kept  up  in  conversation  ? 

These  false  professions  of  virtue,  which  men  have,  in 
all  ages,  found  it  necessary  to  make  their  appearance 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS. 


215 


with  abroad,  must  have  been  originally  taken  up  in 
order  to  deceive  in  the  proper  sense:  then  they  became 
habitual,  and  often  intended  merely  by  way  of  form: 
yet  often  still,  to  serve  their  original  purpose  of 
deceiving. 

There  is  doubtless  amongst  mankind  a  great  deal  of 
this  hypocrisy  towards  each  other:  but  not  so  much  as 
may  sometimes  be  supposed.  For  part  which  has,  at 
first  sight,  this  appearance,  is  in  reality  that  other 
hypocrisy  before  mentioned;  that  self-deceit,  of  which 
the  Scripture  so  remarkably  takes  notice.  There  are 
indeed  persons  who  live  without  God  in  the  world:  *  and 
some  appear  so  hardened  as  to  keep  no  measures  with 
themselves.  But  as  very  ill  men  may  have  a  real  and 
strong  sense  of  virtue  and  religion,  in  proportion  as  this 
is  the  case  with  any,  they  cannot  be  easy  within 
themselves  but  by  deluding  their  consciences.  And 
though  they  should,  in  great  measure,  get  over  their 
religion,  yet  this  will  not  do.  For  as  long  as  they  carry 
about  with  them  any  such  sense  of  things,  as  makes 
them  condemn  what  is  wrong  in  others,  they  could  not 
but  condemn  the  same  in  themselves,  and  dislike  and 
be  disgusted  with  their  own  character  and  conduct,  il 
they  would  consider  them  distinctly,  and  in  a  full  light. 
But  this  sometimes  they  carelessly  neglect  to  do,  and 
sometimes  carefully  avoid  doing.  And  as  the  integrity 
of  the  upright  guides  him,\  guides  even  a  man's  judgment 
so  wickedness  may  distort  it  to  such  a  degree,  as  that 
he  may  call  evil  good,  and  good  evil;  put  darkness  foi 
light,  and  light  for  darkness ;t  and  think  wickedly,  that 
God  is  such  an  one  as  himself  §  Even  the  better  sort  of 
men  are,  in  some  degree,  liable  to  disguise  and  palliate 
their  failings  to  themselves:  but  perhaps  there  are  few 
men  who  go  on  calmly  in  a  course  of  very  bad  things, 
without  somewhat  of  the  kind  now  described  in  a  very 
high  degree.  They  try  appearances  upon  themselves  as 
well  as  upon  the  world,  and  with  at  least  as  much 
success;  and  choose  to  manage  so  as  to  make  their  own 
minds  easy  with  their  faults,  which  can  scarce  be  without 
management,  rather  than  to  mend  them. 

•  Epb.  ii.  I?,         f  Prov.  xi.  3.  $  Tsa.  v.  So.  $  psalm  1.  21. 


215 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BLFORE 


But  whether  from  men's  deluding  themselves,  or  from 
their  intending  to  delude  the  world,  it  is  evident  scarce 
any  thing  wrong  in  public  has  ever  been  accomplished, 
or  even  attempted,  but  under  false  colours:  either  by 
pretending  one  thing,  which  was  right,  to  be  designed, 
when  it  was  really  another  thing,  which  was  wrong;  or 
if  that  which  was  wrong  was  avowed,  by  endeavouring 
to  give  it  some  appearance  of  right.  For  tyranny,  and 
faction  so  friendly  to  it,  and  which  is  indeed  tyranny  out 
of  power,  and  unjust  wars,  and  persecution,  by  which 
the  earth  has  been  laid  waste;  all  this  has  all  along  been 
carried  on  with  pretences  of  truth,  right,  general  good. 
So  it  is,  men  cannot  find  in  their  heart  to  join  in  such 
things,  without  such  honest  words  to  be  the  bond  of  the 
union,  though  they  know  among  themselves,  that  they 
are  only  words,  and  often  though  they  know,  that  every 
body  else  knows  it  too. 

These  observations  might  be  exemplified  by  numerous 
instances  in  the  history  which  led  to  them:  and  without 
them  it  is  impossible  to  understand  in  -any  sort  the 
general  character  of  the  chief  actors  in  it,  who  were 
engaged  in  the  black  design  of  subverting  the  constitution 
of  their  country.  This  they  completed  with  the  most 
enormous  act  of  mere  power,  in  defiance  of  all  laws  of 
God  and  man,  and  in  express  contradiction  to  the  real 
design  and  public  votes  of  that  assembly,  whose 
commission,  they  professed,  was  their  only  warrant  for 
any  thing  they  did  throughout  the  whole  rebellion.  Yet 
with  unheard-of  hypocrisy  towards  men,  towards  God 
and  their  own  consciences,  for  without  such  a  complica- 
tion of  it  their  conduct  is  inexplicable;  even  this  action, 
which  so  little  admitted  of  any  cloak,  was,  we  know, 
contrived  and  carried  into  execution,  under  pretences  of 
authority,  religion,  liberty,  and  by  profaning  the  forms 
•of  justice  in  an  arraignment  and  trial,  like  to  what  is 
aised  in  regular  legal  procedures.  No  age  indeed  can 
•show  an  example  of  hypocrisy  parallel  to  this.  But  the 
(history  of  all  ages  and  all  countries  will  show,  what  has 
been  really  going  forward  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  to 
be  verv  different  from  what  has  been  always  pretended; 
and  that  virtue  has  been  every  where  professed  much 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS. 


217 


more  than  it  has  been  any  where  practised ;  nor  coulu 
society,  from  the  very  nature  of  its  constitution,  subsist 
without  some  general  public  profession  of  it.  Thus  the 
face  and  appearance  which  the  world  has  in  all  times  put 
on,  for  the  ease  and  ornament  of  life,  and  in  pursuit  ol 
further  ends,  is  the  justest  satire  upon  what  has  in  all 
times  been  carrying  on  under  it :  and  ill  men  are  destined, 
by  the  condition  of  their  being  as  social  creatures,  always 
to  bear  about  with  them,  and,  in  different  degrees,  to 
profess,  that  law  of  virtue,  by  which  they  shall  finally  be 
judged  and  condemned. 

II.  As  fair  pretences,  of  one  sort  or  other,  have  thus 
always  been  made  use  of  by  mankind  to  colour  over 
indirect  and  wrong  designs  from  the  world,  and  to  palliate 
and  excuse  them  to  their  own  minds;  liberty,  in  common 
with  all  other  good  things,  is  liable  to  be  made  this  use  of, 
and  is  also  liable  to  it  in  a  way  more  peculiar  to  itself: 
which  was  the  second  thing  to  be  considered. 

In  the  history  which  this  day  refers  us  to,  we  find  our 
constitution,  in  Church  and  State,  destroyed  under 
pretences,  not  only  of  religion,  but  of  securing  liberty, 
and  carrying  it  to  a  greater  height.  The  destruction  of 
the  former  was  with  zeal  of  such  a  kind,  as  would  not 
have  been  warrantable,  though  it  had  been  employed  in 
the  destruction  of  heathenism.  And  the  confusions,  the 
persecuting  spirit,  and  incredible  fanaticism,  which  grew 
up  upon  its  ruins,  cannot  but  teach  sober-minded  men  to 
reverence  so  mild  and  reasonable  an  establishment,  now 
it  is  restored;  for  the  preservation  of  Christianity,  and 
keeping  up  a  sense  of  it  amongst  us,  and  for  the  instruc- 
tion and  guide  of  the  ignorant;  nay  were  it  only  for 
guarding  religion  from  such  extravagances:  especially 
as  these  important  purposes  are  served  by  it  without  being 
hard  in  the  least  upon  any. 

And  the  concurrent  course  of  things,  which  brought 
on  the  ruin  of  our  civil  constitution,  and  what  followed 
upon  it,  are  no  less  instructive.  The  opposition,  by  legal 
and  parliamentary  methods,  to  prerogatives  unkiown  to 
the  constitution,  was  doubtless  formed  upon  the  justest 
fears  in  behalf  of  it.  But  new  distrusts  arose :  new 
causes  were  given  for  them :  these  were  most  unreas  \>nably 


218 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


aggravated.  The  better  part  gradually  gave  way  to  the 
more  violent:  and  the  better  part  themselves  seem  to 
have  insisted  upon  impracticable  securities  against  that 
one  danger  to  liberty,  of  which  they  had  too  great  cause 
to  be  apprehensive;  and  wonderfully  overlooked  all 
dangers  to  it,  which  yet  were,  and  ever  will  be,  many  and 
great.  Thus  they  joined  in  the  current  measures,  till 
they  were  utterly  unable  to  stop  the  mischiefs,  to  which, 
with  too  much  distrust  on  one  side,  and  too  little  on  the 
other,  they  had  contributed.  Never  was  a  more 
remarkable  example  of  the  Wise  Man's  observation,  that 
the  bey  inning  of  strife  is  as  when  one  letteth  out  water* 
For  this  opposition,  thus  begun,  surely  without  intent  of 
proceeding  to  violence ;  yet,  as  it  went  on,  like  an  over- 
flowing stream  in  its  progress,  it  collected  all  sort  of 
impurities,  and  grew  more  outrageous  as  it  grew  more 
corrupted;  till  at  length  it  bore  down  every  thing  good 
before  it.  This  naturally  brought  on  arbitrary  power  in 
one  shape,  which  was  odious  to  every  body,  and  which 
could  not  be  accommodated  to  the  forms  of  our  constitu 
tion  ;  and  put  us  in  the  utmost  danger  of  having  it  entailed 
upon  us  under  another,  which  might.  For  at  the  king's 
return,  such  was  the  just  indignation  of  the  public  at 
what  it  had  seen,  and  fear  of  feeling  again  what  it  had 
felt,  from  the  popular  side;  such  the  depression  and 
compliance,  not  only  of  the  more  guilty,  but  also  of  those, 
>vho  with  better  meaning  had  gone  on  with  them;  and  a 
great  deal  too  far  many  of  this  character  had  gone;  and 
such  -  the  undistinguishing  distrust  the  people  had  of 
them  all,  that  the  chief  security  of  our  liberties  seems  to 
have  been,  their  not  being  attempted  at  that  time. 

But  though  persons  contributed  to  all  this  mischief 
and  danger  with  different  degrees  of  guilt,  none  could 
Co :i tribute  to  them  with  innocence,  who  at  all  knew 
what  they  were  about.  Indeed  the  destruction  of  a  free 
c (institution  of  government,  though  men  see  or  fancy 
many  defects  in  it,  and  whatever  they  design  or  pretend, 
ought  not  to  be  thought  of  without  horror.  For  the  de- 
sign is  in  itself  unjust,  since  it  is  romantic  to  suppose  it 
legal:  if.  cannot  be  prosecuted  without  the  most  wicked 

•  Ptov.  xvii.  14. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS. 


219 


means;  nor  accomplished  but  with  the  present  ruin  ol 
liberty,  religious  as  well  as  civil ;  for  it  must  be  the  ruin 
of  its  present  security.    Whereas  the  restoration  of  it 
must  depend  upon  a  thousand  future  contingencies,  the 
integrity,  understanding,  power  of  the  persons,  into 
whose  hands  anarchy  and  confusion  should  throw  things ; 
and  who  they  will  be,  the  history  before  us  may  surely 
serve  to  show,  no  human  foresight  can  determine  ;  even 
though  such  a  terrible  crisis  were  to  happen  in  an  age, 
not  distinguished  for  the  want  of  principle  and  public 
spirit,  and  when  nothing  particular  were  to  be  appre- 
hended from  abroad.    It  would  be  partiality  to  say,  that 
no  constitution  of  government  can  possibly  be  imagined 
more  perfect  than  our  own.    And  ingenuous  youth  may 
be  warmed  with  the  idea  of  one,  against  which  nothing 
can  be  objected.    But  it  is  the  strongest  objection  against 
attempting  to  put  in  practice  the  most  perfect  theory,  that 
it  is  impracticable,  or  too  dangerous  to  be  attempted. 
And  whoever  will  thoroughly  consider,  in  what  degree 
mankind  are  really  influenced  by  reason,  and  in  what 
degree  by  custom,  may,  I  think,  be  convinced,  that  the 
state  of  human  affairs  does  not  even  admit  of  an  equiva- 
lent for  the  mischief  of  setting  things  afloat;  and  the 
danger  of  parting  with  those  securities  of  liberty,  which 
anse  from  regulations  of  long  prescription  and  ancient 
usage;  especially  at  a  time  when  the  directors  are  so 
very  numerous,  and  the  obedient  so  few.  Reasonable 
men  therefore  will  look  upon  the  general  plan  of  our 
constitution,  transmitted  down  to  us  by  our  ancestors,  as 
sacred;  and  content  themselves  with  calmly  doing  what 
their  station  requires,  towards  rectifying  the  particular 
things  which  they  think  amiss,  and  supplying  the  parti- 
cular things  which  they  think  deficient  in"  it,  so  far  as  is 
practicable  without  endangering  the  whole. 

But  liberty  is  in  many  other  dangers  from  itself,  be- 
sides those  which  arise  from  formed  designs  of  destroying 
it,  under  hypocritical  pretences,  or  romantic  schemes  of 
restoring  it  upon  a  more  perfect  plan.  It  is  particular!) 
liable  to  become  excessive,  and  to  degenerate  insensibly 
into  licentiousness;  in  the  same  manner  as  liberality, 
for  example,  is   apt  to  degenerate  into  extravagance. 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


\nd  as  men  cloak  their  extravagance  to  themselves 
under  the  notion  of  liberality,  and  to  the  world  under 
the  name  of  it,  so  licentiousness  passes  under  the  name 
and  notion  of  liberty.  Now  it  is  to  be  observed,  that 
there  is,  in  some  respects  or  other,  a  very  peculiar 
contrariety  between  those  vices  which  consist  in  excess, 
and  the  virtues  of  which  they  are  said  to  be  the  excess, 
and  the  resemblance,  and  whose  names  they  affect  to 
bear;  the  excess  of  any  thing  being  always  to  its  hurt, 
and  tending  to  its  destruction.  In  this  manner  licen- 
tiousness is,  in  its  very  nature,  a  present  infringement 
upon  liberty,  and  dangerous  to  it  for  the  future.  Yet  it 
is  treated  by  many  persons  with  peculiar  indulgence 
under  this  very  notion,  as  being  an  excess  of  liberty. 
And  an  excess  of  liberty  it  is  to  the  licentious  them- 
selves :  but  what  is  it  to  those  who  suffer  by  them,  and 
who  do  not  think,  that  amends  is  at  all  made  them  by 
having  it  left  in  their  power  to  retaliate  safely  ?  When 
by  popular  insurrections,  or  defamatory  libels,  or  in  any 
like  way,  the  needy  and  the  turbulent  securely  injure 
quiet  people  in  their  fortune  or  good  name,  so  far  quiet 
people  are  no  more  free  than  if  a  single  tyrant  used  them 
thus.  A  particular  man  maybe  licentious  without  being 
less  free  :  but  a  community  cannot;  since  the  licentious- 
ness of  one  will  unavoidably  break  in  upon  the  liberty 
of  another.  Civil  liberty,  the  liberty  of  a  community,  is 
a  severe  and  a  restrained  thing  ;  implies  in  the  notion  of 
it,  authority,  settled  subordinations,  subjection,  and  obe- 
dience ;  and  is  altogether  as  much  hurt  by  too  little  of 
this  kind,  as  by  too  much  of  it.  And  the  love  of  liberty, 
when  it  is  indeed  the  love  of  liberty,  which  carries  us  to 
withstand  tyranny,  will  as  much  carry  us  to  reverence 
authority,  and  support  it ;  for  this  most  obvious  reason, 
that,  one  is  as  necessary  to  the  very  being  of  liberty,  as 
the  other  is  destructive  of  it.  And  therefore  the  love  01 
liberty,  which  does  not  produce  this  effect ;  the  love  ot 
liberty,  which  is  not  a  real  principle  of  dutiful  behaviour 
towards  authority  ;  is  as  hypocritical,  as  the  religion 
which  is  not  productive  of  a  good  life.  Licentiousness 
is,  in  truth,  such  an  excess  of  liberty  as  is  of  the  same 
nature  with  tyi?.nny.    For  what  is  the  difference  between 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS. 


221 


them,  but  that  one  is  lawless  power  exercised  under  pre- 
tence of  authority,  or  by  persons  invested  with  it ;  the 
other  lawless  power  exercised  under  pretence  of  liberty, 
or  without  any  pretence  at  all?  A  people  then  must 
always  be  less  free  in  proportion  as  they  are  more  licen- 
tious ;  licentiousness  being  not  only  different  from  liberty, 
but  directly  contrary  to  it;  a  direct  breach  upon  it. 

It  is  moreover  of  a  growing  nature;  and  of  speedy 
growth  too;  and,  with  the  culture  which  it  has  amongst 
us,  needs  no  great  length  of  time  to  get  to  such  a  height 
as  no  legal  government  will  be  able  to  restrain,  or  sub- 
sist under:  which  is  the  condition  the  historian  describes 
in  saying,  they  could  neither  bear  their  vices,  nor  the 
remedies  of  them.*  I  said  legal  government:  for,  in  the 
present  state  of  the  world,  there  is  no  danger  of  our  be- 
coming savages.  Had  licentiousness  finished  its  work, 
and  destroyed  our  constitution,  power  would  not  be 
wanting,  from  one  quarter  or  another,  sufficient  to  sub- 
due us,  and  keep  us  in  subjection.  But  government,  as 
distinguished  from  mere  power,  free  government,  neces- 
sarily implies  reverence  in  the  subjects  of  it,  for  autho- 
rity, or  power  regulated  by  laws;  and  an  habit  of  submis- 
sion to  the  subordinations  in  civil  life,  throughout  its 
several  ranks :  nor  is  a  people  capable  of  liberty  without 
somewhat  of  this  kind.  But  it  must  be  observed,  and 
less  surely  cannot  be  observed,  this  reverence  and  sub- 
mission will  at  best  be  very  precarious,  if  it  be  not 
founded  upon  a  sense  of  authority  being  God's  ordin- 
ance, and  the  subordinations  in  life  a  providential  ap- 
pointment of  things.  Now  let  it  be  considered,  for  surely 
it  is  not  duly  considered,  what  is  really  the  short  amount 
of  those  representations,  which  persons  of  superior  rank 
give,  and  encourage  to  be  given  of  each  other,  and  which 
are  spread  over  the  nation?  Is  it  not  somewhat,  in 
itself,,  and  in  its  circumstances,  beyond  any  thing  in  any 
other  age  or  country  of  the  world  ?  And  what  effect 
must  the  continuance  of  this  extravagant  licentiousness 
in  them,  not  to  mention  other  kinds  of  it,  have  upon  the 
people  in  those  respects  just  mentioned?  Must  it  not 
necessarily  tend  to  wear  out  of  their  minds  all  reverence 

*  Nec  vitia  nostra,  nec  reraedia  pati  possumus. — Liv.  lib.  i.  c.  1> 


222 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


for  authority,  and  respect  for  superiors  of  every  sort; 
and,  joined  with  the  irreligious  principles  we  find  so  in- 
dustriously propagated,  to  introduce  a  total  profligateness 
amongst  them  ;  since,  let  them  be  as  bad  as  they  will, 
it  is  scarce  possible  they  can  be  so  bad  as  they  are  in- 
structed they  may  be,  or  worse  than  they  are  told  their 
superiors  are?  And  is  there  no  danger  that  all  this,  to 
mention  only  one  supposable  course  of  it,  may  raise 
somewhat  like  that  levelling  spirit,  upon  atheistical  prin- 
ciples, which,  in  the  last  age,  prevailed  upon  enthusiastic 
ones?  not  to  speak  of  the  possibility,  that  different  sorts 
of  people  may  unite  in  it  upon  these  contrary  principles. 
And  may  not  this  spirit,  together  with  a  concurrence  of 
ill  humours,  and  of  persons  who  hope  to  find  their  ac- 
count in  confusion,  soon  prevail  to  such  a  degree,  as  will 
require  more  of  the  good  old  principles  of  loyalty  and  of 
religion  to  withstand  it,  than  appear  to  be  left  amongst  us? 

What  legal  remedies  can  be  provided  against  these 
mischiefs,  or  whether  any  at  all,  are  considerations  the 
farthest  from  my  thoughts.  No  government  can  be 
free,  which  is  not  administered  by  general  stated  laws: 
and  these  cannot  comprehend  every  case,  which  wants 
to  be  provided,  against:  nor  can  new  ones  be  made  for 
every  particular  case,  as  it  arises:  and  more  particular 
laws,  as  well  as  more  general  ones,  admit  of  infinite 
evasions:  and  legal  government  forbids  any  but  legal 
methods  of  redress;  which  cannot  but  be  liable  to  the 
same  sort  of  imperfections:  besides  the  additional  one 
of  delay;  and  whilst  redress  is  delayed,  however  un- 
avoidably, wrong  subsists.  Then  there  are  very  bad 
things,  which  human  authority  can  scarce  provide 
against  at  all,  but  by  methods  dangerous  to  liberty;  nor 
fully,  but  by  such  as  would  be  fatal  to  it.  These  things 
show,  that  liberty,  in  the  very  nature  of  it,  absolutely 
requires,  and  even  supposes,  that  people  be  able  to 
govern  themselves  in  those  respects  in  which  they  are 
free;  otherwise  their  wickedness  will  be  in  proportior. 
to  their  liberty,  and  this  greatest  of  blessings  will  become 
a  curse. 

III.  These  things  show  likewise,  that  there  is  but 
one  adequate  remedy  to  the  forementioned  evils,  even 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS. 


223 


that  which  the  apostle  prescribes  in  the  last  words  of 
the  text,  to  consider  ourselves  as  the  servants  of  God, 
who  enjoins  dutiful  submission  to  civil  authority,  as  his 
ordinance;  and  to  whom  we  are  accountable  for  the  use 
we  make  of  the  liberty  which  we  enjoy  under  it.  Since 
men  cannot  live  out  of  society,  nor  in  it  without  govern- 
ment, government  is  plainly  a  divine  appointment;  and 
consequently  submission  to  it,  a  most  evident  duty  of 
the  law  of  nature.  And  we  all  know  in  how  forcible  a 
manner  it  is  put  upon  our  consciences  in  Scripture. 
Nor  can  this  obligation  be  denied  formally  upon  any 
principles,  but  such  as  subvert  all  other  obligations. 
Yet  many  amongst  us  seem  not  to  consider  it  as  any 
obligation  at  all.  This  doubtless  is,  in  a  great  measure, 
owing  to  dissoluteness  and  corruption  of  manners:  but 
I  think  it  is  partly  owing  to  their  having  reduced  it  to 
nothing  in  theory.  Whereas  this  obligation  ought  to  be 
put  upon  the  same  foot  with  all  other  general  ones, 
which  are  not  absolute  and  without  exception :  and  our 
submission  is  due  in  all  cases  but  those,  which  we  really 
discern  to  be  exceptions  to  the  general  rule.  And  they 
who  are  perpetually  displaying  the  exceptions,  though 
they  do  not  indeed  contradict  the  meaning  of  any  parti- 
cular texts  of  Scripture,  which  surely  intended  to  make 
no  alteration  in  men's  civil  rights;  yet  they  go  against 
the  general  tenor  of  Scripture.  For  the  Scripture, 
throughout  the  whole  of  it,  commands  submission; 
supposing  men  apt  enough  of  themselves  to  make  the 
exceptions,  and  not  to  need  being  continually  reminded 
of  them.  Now  if  we  are  really  under  any  obligations  of 
duty  at  all  to  magistrates,  honour  and  respect,  in  our 
behaviour  towards  them,  must  doubtless  be  their  due. 
And  they  who  refuse  to  pay  them  this  small  and  easy 
regard,  who  despise  dominion,  and  speak  evil  of  dignities* 
should  seriously  ask  themselves,  what  restrains  them 
from  any  other  instance  whatever  of  undutifulness? 
And  if  it  be  principle,  why  not  from  this  ?  Indeed  free 
government  supposes,  that  the  conduct  of  affairs  may  be 
inquired  into,  and  spoken  of  with  freedom.  Yet  surely 
this  should  be  done  with  decency,  for  the  sake  of  liberty 


*  Ju.l.-  3. 


224 


A  SERMON  PREACHED 


itself;  for  its  honour  and  its  security.  But  be  «  dstie 
as  it  will,  it  is  a  very  different  thing  from  libelling,  and 
endeavouring  to  vilify  the  persons  of  such  as  are  in 
authority.  It  will  be  hard  to  find  an  instance,  in  which 
a  serious  man  could  calmly  satisfy  himself  in  doing  this 
It  is  in  no  case  necessary,  and  in  every  case  of  very 
pernicious  tendency.  But  the  immorality  of  it  increases 
in  proportion  to  the  integrity  and  superior  rank  of  the 
persons  thus  treated.  It  is  therefore  in  the  highest 
degree  immoral,  when  it  extends  to  the  supreme  autho- 
rity in  the  person  of  a  prince,  from  whom  our  liberties 
are  in  no  imaginable  danger,  whatever  they  may  be 
from  ourselves ;  and  whose  mild  and  strictly  legal 
government  could  not  but  make  any  virtuous  people 
happy. 

A  free  government,  which  the  good  providence  of 
God  has  preserved  to  us  through  innumerable  dangers, 
is  an  invaluable  blessing.  And  our  ingratitude  to  him 
in  abusing  of  it  must  be  great  in  proportion  to  the  great- 
ness of  the  blessing,  and  the  providential  deliverances 
by  which  it  has  been  preserved  to  us.  Yet  the  crime  of 
abusing  this  blessing  receives  further  aggravation  from 
hence,  that  such  abuse  always  is  to  the  reproach,  and 
tends  to  the  ruin  of  it.  The  abuse  of  liberty  has  directly 
overturned  many  free  governments,  as  well  as  our  own, 
on  the  popular  side;  and  has,  in  various  ways,  contributed 
to  the  ruin  of  many,  which  have  been  overturned  on  the 
side  of  authority.  Heavy  therefore  must  be  their  guilt, 
who  shall  be  found  to  have  given  such  advantages  against 
it,  as  well  as  theirs  who  have  taken  them. 

Lastly,  The  consideration,  that  we  are  the  servants  of 
God,  reminds  us,  that  we  are  accountable  to  him  for  our 
behaviour  in  those  respects,  in  which  it  is  out  of  the 
reach  of  all  human  authority;  and  is  the  strongest 
enforcement  of  sincerity,  as  all  things  are  naked  and  open 
unto  the  eyes  of  him  with  whom  we  have  to  do*  Artificial, 
behaviour  might  perhaps  avail  much  towards  quieting 
our  consciences,  and  making  our  part  good  in  the  short 
competitions  of  this  world:  but  what  will  it  avail  us 
considered  as  under  the  government  of  God0  Under 

•  Heb.  iv.  13. 


AT  CHRIST-CHURCH,  LONDON. 


225 


his  government,  there  is  no  darkness,  nor  shadow  of  death, 
where  the  workers  of  iniquity  may  hide  themselves  *  He 
has  indeed  instituted  civil  government  over  the  face  of 
the  earth,  for  the  punishment  of  evil-doers,  and  for  the 
praise,  the  apostle  does  not  say  the  rewarding,  but,  for 
the  praise  of  them  that  do  well.i  Yet  as  the  worst  answer 
these  ends  in  some  measure,  the  best  can  do  it  very 
imperfectly.  Civil  government  can  by  no  means  take 
cognizance  of  every  work,  which  is  good  or  evil;  many 
things  are  done  in  secret;  the  authors  unknown  to  it, 
and  often  the  things  themselves:  then  it  cannot  so  much 
consider  actions,  under  the  view  of  their  being  morally 
good,  or  evil,  as  under  the  view  of  their  being  mischievous, 
or  beneficial  to  society:  nor  can  it  in  any  wise  execute 
judgment  in  rewarding  what  is  good,  as  it  can,  and  ought, 
and  does,  in  punishing  what  is  evil.  But  God  sliallhing 
every  work  into  judgment,  with  every  secret  thing,  whether 
it  be  good,  or  whether  it  be  evil.t 


SERMON  IV. 

PREACHED  IN  THE  PARISH  CHURCH  OF  CHRIST-CHURCH,  LONDON,  ON 
THURSDAY,  MAY  0,  1745,  BEING  THE  TIME  OF  THE  YEARLY  MEETING 
OF  THE  CHILDREN  EDUCATED  IN  THE  CHARITY-SCHOOLS  IN  AND  ABOUT 
THE  CITIES  OF  LONDON  AND  WESTMINSTER. 

Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go:  and  when  he  is  old,  he 
will  not  depart  from  it. — Prov.  xxii.  6. 

Human  creatures,  from  the  constitution  of  their  nature 
and  the  circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed,  cannot 
but  acquire  habits  during  their  childhood,  by  the  impres- 
sions which  are  given  them,  and  their  own  customary 
actions.  And  long  before  they  arrive  at  mature  age, 
these  habits  form  a  general  settled  character.  And  the 
observation  of  the  text,  that  the  most  early  habits  are 
usually  the  most  lasting,  is  likewise  every  one's  observa- 
tion. Now  whenever  children  are  left  to  themselves, 
smd  to  the  guides  and  companions  which  they  choose,  or 
by  hazard  light  upon,  we  find  by  experience,  that  the  first 

•  Job  xxxiv.  22.  f  1  Pet.  li.  14.  }  Eccle*.  xii.  14. 

P 


226 


A  SERMON  PREACHED 


impressions  they  take,  and  course  of  action  they  get  into, 
are  very  bad ;  and  so  consequently  must  be  their  habits, 
and  character,  and  future  behaviour.  Thus  if  they  are 
not  trained  up  in  the  way  they  should  go,  they  will 
certainly  be  trained  up  in  the  way  they  should  not  go, 
and  in  all  probability  will  persevere  in  it,  and  become 
miserable  themselves,  and  mischievous  to  society:  which, 
in  event,  is  worse,  upon  account  of  both,  than  if  they 
had  been  exposed  to  perish  in  their  infancy.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  ingenuous  docility  of  children  before 
they  have  been  deceived,  their  distrust  of  themselves, 
and  natural  deference  to  grown  people,  whom  they  find 
here  settled  in  a  world  where  they  themselves  are 
strangers;  and  to  whom  they  have  recourse  for  advice,  as 
readily  as  for  protection ;  which  deference  is  still  greater 
towards  those  who  are  placed  over  them :  these  things 
give  the  justest  grounds  to  expect  that  they  may  receive 
such  impressions,  and  be  influenced  to  such  a  course  of 
behaviour,  as  will  produce  lasting  good  habits;  and, 
•together  with  the  dangers  before  mentioned,  are  as  truly 
a  natural  demand  upon  us  to  train  them  up  in  the  way 
[hey  should  go,  as  their  bodily  wants  are  a  demand  to 
provide  them  bodily  nourishment.  Brute  creatures  are 
appointed  to  do  no  more  than  this  last  for  their  offspring, 
nature  forming  them  by  instincts  to  the  particular 
manner  of  life  appointed  them;  from  which  they  never 
deviate.  But  this  is  so  far  from  being  the  case  of  men, 
that,  on  the  contrary,  considering  communities  collec- 
tively, every  successive  generation  is  left,  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  Providence,  to  be  formed  by  the  preceding 
one;  and  becomes  good  or  bad,  though  not  without  its 
own  merit  or  demerit,  as  this  trust  is  discharged  or 
violated,  chiefly  in  the  management  of  youth. 

We  ought,  doubtless,  to  instruct  and  admonish  grown 
persons;  to  restrain  them  from  what  is  evil,  and 
encourage  them  in  what  is  good,  as  we  are  able:  but 
this  care  of  youth,  abstracted  from  all  consideration  of 
the  parental  affection,  I  say,  this  care  of  youth,  which  is 
the  general  notion  of  education,  becomes  a  distinct 
subject,  and  a  distinct  duty,  from  the  particular  dangeT 
of  their  ruin,  if  left  to  themselves,  and  the  particular 


AT  CHRIST-CHURCH,  LONDON. 


227 


reason  we  have  to  expect  they  will  do  well,  if  due  care 
be  taken  of  them.  And  from  hence  it  follows,  that 
children  have  as  much  right  to  some  proper  education, 
as  to  have  their  lives  preserved;  and  that  when  this  is 
not  given  them  by  their  parents,  the  care  of  it  devolves 
upon  ail  persons,  it  becomes  the  duty  of  all,  who  are 
capable  of  contributing  to  it,  and  whose  help  is  wanted. 

These  trite,  but  most  important  things,  implied  indeed 
in  the  text,  being  thus  premised  as  briefly  as  I  could 
express  them,  I  proceed  to  consider  distinctly  the 
general  manner  in  which  the  duty  of  education  is  there 
laid  before  us:  which  will  further  show  its  extent,  and 
further  obviate  the  idle  objections  which  have  been 
made  against  it.  And  all  this  together  will  naturally 
lead  us  to  consider  the  occasion  and  necessity  of  schools 
for  the  education  of  poor  children,  and  in  what  light  the 
objections  against  them  are  to  be  regarded. 

Solomon  might  probably  intend  the  text  for  a  parti- 
cular admonition  to  educate  children  in  a  manner 
suitable  to  their  respective  ranks,  and  future  employ- 
ments: but  certainly  he  intended  it  for  a  general 
admonition  to  educate  them  in  virtue  and  religion,  and 
good  conduct  of  themselves  in  their  temporal  concerns. 
And  all  this  together,  in  which  they  are  to  be  educated, 
he  calls  the  way  they  should  go,  i.  e.  he  mentions  it  not 
as  a  matter  of  speculation,  but  of  practice.  And  con- 
formably to  this  description  of  the  things  in  which 
children  are  to  be  educated,  he  describes  education 
itself:  for  he  calls  it  training  them  up;  which  is  a  very 
different  thing  from  merely  teaching  them  some  truths, 
necessary  to  be  known  or  believed.  It  is  endeavouring 
to  form  such  truths  into  practical  principles  in  the  mind, 
so  as  to  render  them  of  habitual  good  influence  upon  the 
temper  and  actions,  in  all  the  various  occurrences  of 
life.  And  this  is  not  done  by  bare  instruction;  but  by 
that,  together  with  admonishing  them  frequently  as 
occasion  offers;  restraining  them  from  what  is  evil,  and 
exercising  them  in  what  is  good.  Thus  the  precept  of 
the  apostle  concerning  this  matter  is  to  bring  up  children 
in  tlie  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord;*  as  it  were 

*  Eph.  vi.  4. 


228 


A  SERMON  PREACHED 


by  way  of  distinction  from  acquainting  them  merely  with 
the  principles  of  Christianity,  as  you  would  with  any 
common  theory.  Though  education  were  nothing  more 
than  informing  children  of  some  truths  of  importance  to 
them,  relating  to  religion  and  common  life,  yet  there 
would  be  great  reason  for  it,  notwithstanding  the  frivolous 
objections  concerning  the  danger  of  giving  them  preju- 
dices. But  when  we  consider  that  such  information 
itself  is  really  the  least  part  of  it;  and  that  it  consists  in 
endeavouring  to  put  them  "into  right  dispositions  of  mind, 
and  right  habits  of  living,  in  every  relation  and  every 
capacity;  this  consideration  shows  such  objections  to  be 
quite  absurd:  since  it  shows  them  to  be  objections 
against  doing  a  thing  of  the  utmost  importance  at  the 
natural  opportunity  of  our  doing  it,  childhood  and  youth; 
and  which  is  indeed,  properly  speaking,  our  only  one. 
For  when  they  are  grown  up  to  maturity,  they  are  out 
of  our  hands,  and  must  be  left  to  themselves.  The 
natural  authority  on  one  side  ceases,  and  the  deference 
on  the  other.  God  forbid,  that  it  should  be  impossible 
for  men  to  recollect  themselves,  and  reform  at  an 
advanced  age:  but  it  is  in  no  sort  in  the  power  of  others 
to  gain  upon  them;  to  turn  them  away  from  what  is 
wrong,  and  enforce  upon  them  what  is  right,  at  that 
season  of  their  lives,  in  the  manner  we  might  have  done 
in  their  childhood. 

Doubtless  religion  requires  instruction,  for  it  is  founded 
in  knowledge  and  belief  of  some  truths.  And  so  is 
common  prudence  in  the  management  of  our  temporal 
affairs  Yet  neither  of  them  consist  in  the  knowledge 
or  belief  even  of  these  fundamental  truths;  but  in  our 
being  brought  by  such  knowledge  or  belief  to  a  corre- 
spondent temper  and  behaviour.  Religion,  as  it  stood 
under  the  Old  Testament,  is  perpetually  styled  the  fear 
of  God:  under  the  New,  faith  in  Christ.  But  as  that 
fear  of  God  does  not  signify  literally  being  afraid  of  him, 
but  having  a  good  heart,  and  leading  a  good  life,  in 
consequence  of  such  fear;  so  this  faith  in  Christ  does 
not  -signify  literally  believing  in  him  in  the  sense  that 
word  is  used  in  common  language,  but  becoming  his 
real  disciples,  in  consequence  of  such  belief. 


AT  CHRIST-CHURCH,  LONDON. 


22? 


Our  religion  being  then  thus  practical,  consisting  in  a 
frame  of  mind  and  course  of  behaviour,  suitable  to  the 
dispensation  we  are  under,  and  which  will  bring  us  to  our 
final  good;  children  ought,  by  education,  to  be  habituated 
to  this  course  of  behaviour,  and  formed  into  this  frame 
of  mind.  And  it  must  ever  be  remembered,  that  if  nc 
care  be  taken  to  do  it,  they  will  grow  up  in  a  direct 
contrary  behaviour,  and  be  hardened  in  direct  contrary 
habits.  They  will  more  and  more  corrupt  themselves, 
and  spoil  their  proper  nature.  They  will  alienate  them- 
selves further  from  God;  and  not  only  neglect,  but 
trample  under  foot,  the  means  which  he  in  his  infinite 
mercy  has  appointed  for  our  recovery.  And  upon  the 
whole,  the  same  reasons,  which  show,  that  they  ought  to 
be  instructed  and  exercised  in  what  will  render  them  useful 
to  society,  secure  them  from  the  present  evils  they  are  in 
danger  of  incurring,  and  procure  them  that  satisfaction 
which  lies  within  the  reach  of  human  prudence;  show 
likewise,  that  they  ought  to  be  instructed  and  exercised 
in  what  is  suitable  to  the  highest  relations  in  which  we 
stand,  and  the  most  important  capacity  in  which  we  can 
be  considered;  in  that  temper  of  mind  and  course  of 
behaviour,  which  will  secure  them  from  their  chief  evil, 
and  bring  them  to  their  chief  good.  Besides  that  religion 
is  the  principal  security  of  men's  acting  a  right  part  in 
society,  and  even  in  respect  to  their  own  temporal 
happiness,  all  things  duly  considered. 

It  is  true  indeed,  children  may  be  taught  superstition, 
under  the  notion  of  religion;  and  it  is  true  also,  that, 
under  the  notion  of  prudence,  they  may  be  educated  in 
great  mistakes  as  to  the  nature  of  real  interest  and  good, 
respecting  the  present  world.  But  this  is  no  more  a 
reason  for  not  educating  them  according  to  the  best  of 
our  judgment,  than  our  knowing  how  very  liable  we  all 
are  to  err  in  other  cases,  is  a  reason  why  we  should  not, 
in  those  other  cases,  act  according  to  the  best  of  our 
judgment. 

It  being  then  of  the  greatest  importance,  that  children 
should  be  thus  educated,  the  providing  schools  to  give 
this  education  to  such  of  them  as  would  not  otherwise 
have  it,  has  the  appearance,  at  least  at  first  sight,  of 


230 


A  SERMON  PREACHED 


deserving  a  place  amongst  the  very  best  of  good  works. 
One  would  be  backward,  methinks,  in  entertaining 
prejudices  against  it;  and  very  forward,  il  one  had  any, 
to  lay  them  aside,  upon  being  shown  that  they  wen 
groundless.  Let  us  consider  the  whole  state  of  the  case. 
For  though  this  will  lead  us  some  little  compass,  yet  I 
choose  to  do  it;  and  the  rather,  because  there  are  people 
who  speak  of  charity-schools  as  a  new  invented  scheine, 
and  therefore  to  be  looked  upon  with  I  know  not  what 
suspicion.  Whereas  it  will  appear,  that  the  scheme  of 
charity-schools,  even  the  part  of  it  which  is  most  looked 
upon  in  this  light,  teaching  the  children  letters  and 
accounts,  is  no  otherwise  new,  than  as  the  occasion  for  it 
is  so. 

Formerly  not  only  the  education  of  poor  children,  but 
also  their  maintenance,  with  that  of  the  other  poor,  were 
left  to  voluntary  charities.  But  great  changes  of  difterent 
sorts  happening  over  the  nation,  and  charity  becoming 
more  cold,  or  the  poor  more  numerous,  it  was  found 
necessary  to  make  some  legal  provision  for  them.  This 
might,  much  more  properly  than  charity-schools,  be  called 
a  new  scheme.  For,  without  question,  the  education  of  poor 
children  was  all  along  taken  care  of  by  voluntary  charities, 
more  or  less:  but  obliging  us  by  law  to  maintain  the  poor, 
was  new  in  the  reign  of  queen  Elizabeth.  Yet,  because 
a  change  of  circumstances  made  it  necessary,  its  nov  lty 
was  no  reason  against  it.  Now  in  that  legal  provision 
for  the  maintenance  of  the  poor,  poor  children  must 
doubtless  have  had  a  part  in  common  with  grown  people. 
But  this  could  never  be  sufficient  for  children,  because 
their  case  always  requires  more  than  mere  maintenance  ; 
it  requires  that  they  be  educated  in  some  proper  manner. 
Wherever  there  are  poor  who  want  to  be  maintained  by 
charity,  there  must  be  poor  children  who,  besides  this, 
want  to  be  educated  by  charity.  And  whenever 
there  began  to  be  need  of  legal  provision  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  poor,  there  must  immediately  have 
been  need  also  of  some  particular  legal  provision 
in  behalf  of  poor  children  for  their  education;  this 
not  being  included  in  what  we  call  their  maintenance. 
And  many  whose  parents  are  able  to  maintain  them. 


AT  CHRIST  CHURCH,  LONDON.  231 

and  do  so,  may  yet  be  utterly  neglected  as  to  their 
education.  But  possibly  it  might  not  at  first  be  attended 
to,  that  the  case  of  poor  children  was  thus  a  case  by 
itself,  which  required  its  own  particular  provision.  Cer- 
tainly it  would  not  appear,  to  the  generality,  so  urgent  a 
one  as  the  want  of  food  and  raiment.  And  it  migjit  be 
necessary,  that  a  burden  so  entirely  new  as  that  of  a 
poor-tax  was  at  the  time  I  am  speaking  of,  should  be  as 
light  as  possible.  Thus  the  legal  provision  for  the  poor 
was  first  settled;  without  any  particular  consideration  of 
that  additional  want  in  the  case  of  children;  as  it  still 
remains,  with  scarce  any  alteration  in  this  respect.  In 
the  mean  time,  as  the  poor  still  increased,  or  charity  still 
lessened,  many  poor  children  were  left  exposed,  not  to 
perish  for  want  of  food,  but  to  grow  up  in  society,  and 
learn  every  thing  that  is  evil  and  nothing  that  is  good  in 
it;  and  when  they  were  grown  up,  greatly  at  a  loss  in 
what  honest  way  to  provide  for  themselves,  if  they 
could  be  supposed  inclined  to  it.  And  larger  numbers, 
whose  case  was  not  so  bad  as  this,  yet  were  very  far 
from  having  due  care  taken  of  their  education.  And 
the  evil  went  on  increasing,  till  it  was  grown  to  such  a 
degree,  as  to  be  quite  out  of  the  compass  of  separate 
charities  to  remedy.  At  length  some  excellent  persons, 
who  were  united  in  a  Society*  for  carrying  on  almost 
every  good  work,  took  into  consideration  the  neglected 
case  I  have  been  representing;  and  first  of  all,  as  I 
understand  it,  set  up  charity-schools;  or  however  pro- 
moted them,  as  far  as  their  abilities  and  influence  could 
extend.  Their  design  was  not  in  any  sort  to  remove 
poor  children  out  of  the  rank  in  which  they  were  born, 
but,  keeping  them  in  it,  to  give  them  the  assistance 
which  their  circumstances  plainly  called  for;  by  educating 
them  in  the  principles  of  religion,  as  well  as  civil  life; 
and  likewise  making  some  sort  of  provision  for  their 
maintenance:  under  which  last  I  include  clothing  them, 
giving  them  such  learning,  if  it  is  to  be  called  by  that 
name,  as  may  qualify  them  for  some  common  employ- 
ment, and  placing  them  out  to  it  as  they  grow  up. 
These  two  general  designs  coincide  in  many  respects, 

*  Society  for  promoting  Christian  Knowledge. 


232 


A  SERMON  PREACHED 


and  cannot  be  separated.  For  teaching  the  children  to 
read,  though  1  have  ranked  it  under  the  latter,  equally 
belongs  to  both:  and  without  some  advantages  of  the 
latter  sort,  poor  people  would  not  send  their  children  to 
our  charity-schools:  nor  could  the  poorest  of  all  be 
admitted  into  any  schools,  without  some  charitable  pro- 
vision of  clothing.  And  care  is  taken,  that  it  be  such 
as  cannot  but  be  a  restraint  upon  the  children.  And  il 
this,  or  any  part  of  their  education,  gives  them  any  little 
vanity,  as  has  been  poorly  objected,  whilst  they  are 
children,  it  is  scarce  possible  but  that  it  will  have  even 
a  quite  contrary  effect  when  they  are  grown  up,  and 
ever  after  remind  them  of  their  rank.  Yet  still  we  find 
it  is  apprehended  that  what  they  here  learn  may  set  them 
above  it. 

But  why  should  people  be  so  extremely  apprehensive 
of  the  danger,  that  poor  persons  will  make  a  perverse 
use  of  every  the  least  advantage,  even  the  being  able  to 
read,  whilst  they  do  not  appear  at  all  apprehensive  of 
the  like  danger  for  themselves  or  their  own  children,  in 
respect  of  riches  or  power,  how  much  soever;  though 
the  danger  of  perverting  these  advantages  is  surely 
as  great,  and  the  perversion  itself  of  much  greater  and 
worse  consequence  ?  And  by  what  odd  reverse  of 
things  has  it  happened,  that  such  as  pretend  to  be 
distinguished  for  the  love  of  liberty  should  be  the  only 
persons  who  plead  for  keeping  down  the  poor,  as  one 
may  speak;  for  keeping  them  more  inferior  in  this 
respect,  and  which  must  be  the  consequence,  in  other 
respects,  than  they  were  in  times  past?  For  till  within 
a  century  or  two  all  ranks  were  nearly  upon  a  level  as  to 
the  learning  in  question.  The  art  of  printing  appears  to 
have  been  providentially  reserved  till  these  latter  ages, 
and  then  providentially  brought  into  use,  as  what  was  to 
be  instrumental  for  the  future  in  carrying  on  the  ap- 
pointed course  of  things.  The  alterations  which  this  art 
has  even  already  made  in  the  face  of  the  world  are  not 
inconsiderable.  By  means  of  it,  whether  immediately  or 
remotely,  the  methods  of  carrying  on  business  are,  in 
■several  respects,  improved,  knowledge  Jias  been  increased* 

•  Dan.  Xii.  4. 


AT  CHRIST- CHURCH,  LONDON.  %33 

and  some  sort  of  literature  is  become  general.  And  if 
this  be  a  blessing,  we  ought  to  let  the  poor,  in  their 
degree,  share  it  with  us.  The  present  state  of  things 
and  course  of  providence  plainly  leads  us  to  do  so. 

And  if  we  do  not,  it  is  certain,  how  little  soever  it  be 
attended  to,  that  they  will  be  upon  a  greater  disadvantage, 
on  many  accounts,  especially  in  populous  places,  than 
they  were  in  the  dark  ages:  for  they  will  be  more  igno- 
rant, comparatively  with  the  people  about  them,  than 
they  were  then;  and  the  ordinary  affairs  of  the  world 
are  now  put  in  a  way  which  requires  that  they  should 
have  some  knowledge  of  letters,  which  was  not  the  case 
then.    And  therefore  to  bring  up  the  poor  in  their  former 
ignorance,  now  this  knowledge  is  so  much  more  common 
and  wanted,  would  be,  not  to  keep  them  in  the  same,  but 
to  put  them  into  a  lower  condition  of  life  than  what  they 
were  in  formerly.    Nor  let  people  of  rank  flatter  them- 
selves, that  ignorance  will  keep  their  inferiors  more 
dutiful  and  in  greater  subjection  to  them:  for  surely 
there  must  be  danger  that  it  will  have  a  contrary  effect 
under  a  free  government  such  as  ours,  and  in  a  dissolute 
age.    Indeed  the  principles  and  manners  of  the  poor,  as 
to  virtue  and  religion,  will  always  be  gr<  atly  influenced, 
as  they  always  have  been,  by  the  example  of  their  supe- 
riors, if  that  would  mend  the  matter.    And  this  influence 
will,  I  suppose,  be  greater,  if  they  are  kept  more  inferior 
than  formerly  in  all  knowledge  and  improvement.  But 
unless  their  superiors  of  the  present  age,  superiors,  I 
mean  of  the  middle,  as  well  as  higher  ranks  in  society, 
are  greater  examples  of  public  spirit,  of  dutiful  submission 
to  authority,  human  and  divine,  of  moderation  in  diver- 
sions, and  proper  care  of  their  families  and  domestic 
affairs;  unless,  I  say,  superiors  of  the  present  age  are 
greater  examples  of  decency,  virtue,  and  religion,  than 
those  of  former  times;  for  what  reason  in  the  world  is 
it  desirable  that  their  example  should  have  this  greater 
influence  over  the  poor?    On  the  contrary,  why  should 
not  the  poor,  by  being  taught  to  read,  be  put  into  a 
capacity  of  making  some  improvement  in  moral  and 
religious  knowledge,  and  confirming  themselves  in  those 
good  principles,  which  will  be  a  great  security  for  their 


234 


A  SERMON  PREACHED 


following  the  example  of  their  superiors  if  it  be  good, 
and  some  sort  of  preservative  against  their  following  it  if 
it  be  bad?  And  serious  persons  will  further  observe 
very  singular  reasons  for  this  amongst  us;  from  the 
discontinuance  of  that  religious  intercourse  between 
pastors  and  people  in  private,  which  remain  in  Protes- 
tant churches  abroad,  as  well  as  in  the  church  of  Rome, 
and  from  our  small  public  care  and  provision  for  keeping 
up  a  sense  of  religion  in  the  lower  rank,  except  by- 
distributing  religious  books.  For  in  this  way  they  have 
been  assisted;  and  any  well-disposed  person  may  do 
much  good  amongst  them,  and  at  a  very  trifling  expense, 
since  the  worthy  Society  before  mentioned  has  so  greatly 
lessened  the  price  of  such  books.  But  this  pious  chanty 
is  an  additional  reason  why  the  poor  should  be  taught 
to  read,  that  they  may  be  in  a  capacity  of  receiving  the 
benefit  of  it.  Vain  indeed  would  be  the  hope,  that  any 
thing  in  this  world  can  be  fully  secured  from  abuse.  For 
as  it  is  the  general  scheme  of  divine  Providence  to  bring 
good  out  of  evil;  so  the  wickedness  of  men  will,  if  it  be 
possible,  bring  evil  out  of  good.  But  upon  the  whole, 
incapacity  and  ignorance  must  be  favourable  to  error  and 
vice;  and  knowledge  and  improvement  contribute,  in 
due  time,  to  the  destruction  of  impiety  as  well  as  super- 
stition, and  to  the  general  prevalence  of  true  religion. 
But  some  of  these  observations  may  perhaps  be  thought 
too  remote  from  the  present  occasion.  It  is  more 
obviously  to  the  purpose  of  it  to  observe,  that  reading, 
writing,  and  accounts,  are  useful,  and,  whatever  cause  it 
is  owing  to,  would  really  now  be  wanted  in  the  very 
lowest  stations:  and  that  the  trustees  of  our  charity- 
schools  are  fully  convinced  of  the  great  fitness  of  joining 
to  instruction  easy  labour,  of  some  sort  or  other,  as  fast 
as  it  is  practicable;  which  they  have  already  been  able 
to  do  in  some  of  them. 

Then  as  to  placing  out  the  poor  children,  as  soon  as 
they  are  arrived  at  a  fit  age  for  it;  this  must  be  approved 
by  every  one,  as  it  is  putting  them  in  a  way  of  industry 
under  domestic  government,  at  a  time  of  life,  in  some 
respects,  more  dangerous  than  even  childhood.  And  it 
is  a  known  thing,  thai  care  is  taken  to  do  it  in  a  manner 


AT  CHRIST-CHURCH,  LONDON. 


235 


which  does  not  set  them  above  their  rank  :  though  it  is 
not  possible  always  to  do  it  exactly  as  one  would  wish. 
Yet,  I  hope  it  may  be  observed  without  offence,  if  any 
of  them  happen  to  be  of  a  very  weakly  constitution,  or 
of  a  very  distinguished  capacity,  there  can  be  no  impro- 
priety in  placing  these  in  employments  adapted  to  theii 
particular  cases ;  though  such  as  would  be  very  improper 
for  the  generality. 

But  the  principal  design  of  this  charity  is  to  educate 
poor  children  in  such  a  manner,  as  has  a  tendency  to 
make  them  good,  and  useful,  and  contented,  what- 
ever their  particular  station  be.  The  care  of  this  is 
greatly  neglected  by  the  poor:  nor  truly  is  it  more 
regarded  by  the  rich,  considering  what  might  be  expected 
from  them.  And  if  it  were  as  practicable  to  provide 
charity-schools,  which  should  supply  this  shameful 
neglect  in  the  rich,  as  it  is  to  supply  the  like,  though  more 
excusable,  neglect  in  the  poor,  I  should  think  certainly, 
that  both  ought  to  be  done  for  the  same  reasons.  And 
most  people,  I  hope,  will  think  so  too,  if  they  attend  to 
the  thing  I  am  speaking  of ;  which  is  the  moral  and 
religious  part  of  education;  what  is  equally  necessary  for 
all  ranks,  and  grievously  wanting  in  all.  Yet  in  this 
respect  the  poor  must  be  greatly  upon  a  disadvantage, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case;  as  will  appear  to  any  one 
who  will  consider  it. 

For  if  poor  children  are  not  sent  to  school,  several 
years  of  their  childhood  of  course  pass  away  in  idleness 
and  loitering.  This  has  a  tendency  to  give  them  perhaps 
a  feeble  listlessness,  perhaps  a  headstrong  profligateness 
of  mind;  certainly  an  indisposition  to  proper  application 
as  they  grow  up,  and  an  aversion  afterward,  not  only  to 
the  restraints  of  religion,  but  to  those  which  any  par- 
ticular calling,  and  even  the  nature  of  society,  require. 
Whereas  children  kept  to  stated  orders,  and  who  many 
hours  of  the  day  are  in  employment,  are  by  this  means 
habituated  both  to  submit  to  these  who  are  placed  over 
them,  and  to  govern  themselves  ;  and  they  are  also  by 
this  means  prepared  for  industry,  in  any  way  of  life  in 
which  they  may  be  placed.  And  all  this  holds  abstracted 
from  the  consideration  of  their  being  taught  t©  read  ■ 


23  3 


A  SERMON  PREACHED 


without  which,  however,  it  will  be  impracticable  to 
employ  their  time:  not  to  repeat  the  unanswerable  rea- 
sons for  it  before  mentioned.  Now  several  poor  people 
cannot,  others  will  not  be  at  the  expense  of  sending  their 
children  to  school.  And  let  me  add,  that  such  as  can 
and  are  willing,  yet  if  it  be  very  inconvenient  to  them, 
ought  to  be  eas  id  of  it,  and  the  burden  of  children  made 
as  light  as  may  be  to  their  poor  parents. 

Consider  next  the  manner  in  which  the  children  of  the 
poor,  who  have  vicious  parents,  are  brought  up,  in  com- 
parison with  other  children  whose  parents  are  of  the 
same  character.  The  children  of  dissolute  men  of  for- 
tune may  have  the  happiness  of  not  seeing  much  of  their 
parents.  And  this,  even  though  they  are  educated  at 
home,  is  often  the  case,  by  means  of  a  customary  dis- 
tance between  them,  which  cannot  be  kept  amongst  the 
poor.  Nor  is  it  impossible  that  a  rich  man  of  this 
char  acter,  desiring  to  have  his  children  better  than  him- 
self, may  provide  them  such  an  education  as  may  make 
them  so,  without  his  having  any  restraint  or  trouble  in 
the  matter.  And  the  education  which  children  of  better 
rank  must  have,  for  their  improvement  in  the  common 
accomplishments  belonging  to  it,  is  of  course,  as  yet,  for 
the  most  part,  attended  with  some  sort  of  religious  educa- 
tion. But  the  poor,  as  they  cannot  provide  persons  to 
educate  their  children;  so,  from  the  way  in  which  they 
live  together  in  poor  families,  a  child  must  be  an  eye 
and  ear  witness  of  the  worst  part  of  his  parents'  talk 
and  behaviour.  And  it  cannot  but  be  expected,  that 
his  own  will  be  formed  upon  it.  For  as  example 
in  general  has  very  great  influence  upon  all  persons, 
especiallv  children,  the  example  of  their  parents  is 
of  authority  with  them,  when  there  is  nothing  to  balance 
it  on  the  other  side.  Now  take  in  the  supposition,  that 
these  parents  are  dissolute,  profligate  people;  then,  over 
and  above  giving  their  children  no  sort  of  good  instruction, 
and  a  very  bad  example,  there  are  more  crimes  than  one 
in  which,  it  may  be  feared,  they  will  directly  instruct  and 
encourage  them;  besides  letting  them  ramble  abroad 
wherever  thev  will,  by  which,  of  course,  they  learn  the 
very  same  principles  and  manners  they  do  at  home.  And 


AT  CHRIST-CHURCH,  LONDON.  237 

from  all  these  things  together,  such  poor  children  will 
have  their  characters  formed  to  vice,  by  those  whose 
business  it  is  to  restrain  them  from  it.  They  will  be 
disciplined  and  trained  up  in  it.  This  surely  is  a  case 
which  ought  to  have  some  public  provision  made  for  it. 
If  it  cannot  have  an  adequate  one,  yet  such  a  one  as  it 
can  :  unless  it  be  thought  so  rare  as  not  to  deserve  our 
attention.  But  in  reality,  though  there  should  be  no 
more  parents  of  this  character  amongst  the  poor,  in 
proportion,  than  amongst  the  rich,  the  case  which  I  have 
been  putting  will  be  far  from  being  uncommon.  Now 
notwithstanding  the  danger  to  which  the  children  of  such 
wretched  parents  cannot  but  be  exposed,  from  what  they 
see  at  home;  yet  by  instilling  into  them  the  principles  of 
virtue  and  religion  at  school,  and  placing  them  soon  out 
in  sober  families,  there  is  ground  to  hope  they  may  avoid 
those  ill  courses,  and  escape  that  ruin,  into  which,  without 
this  care,  they  would  almost  certainly  run.  I  need  not 
add  how  much  greater  ground  there  is  to  expect,  that 
those  of  the  children  who  have  religious  parents  will  do 
well.  For  such  parents,  besides  setting  their  children  a 
good  example,  will  likewise  repeat  and  enforce  upon  them 
at  home  the  good  instructions  they  receive  at  school. 

After  all,  we  find  the  world  continues  very  corrupt. 
And  it  would  be  miraculous  indeed,  if  charity-schools 
alone  should  make  it  otherwise:  or  if  they  should 
make  even  all  who  are  brought  up  in  them  proof 
against  its  corruptions.  The  truth  is,  every  method 
that  can  be  made  use  of  to  prevent  or  reform  the  bad 
manners  of  the  age,  will  appear  to  be  of  less  effect,  in 
proportion  to  the  greater  occasion  there  is  for  it;  as 
cultivation,  though  the  most  proper  that  can  be,  will 
produce  less  fruit,  or  of  a  worse  sort,  in  a  bad  climate 
than  in  a  good  one.  And  thus  the  character  of  the 
common  people,  with  whom  these  children  are  to  live,  in 
the  ordinary  intercourse  of  business  and  company  when 
they  come  out  into  the  world,  may  more  or  less  defeat 
the  good  effects  of  their  education.  And  so  likewise 
may  the  character  of  men  of  rank,  under  whose  influence 
they  are  to  live.  But  whatever  danger  may  be  appre- 
hended from  either  or  both  of  these,  it  can  be  no  reason 


238 


A  SERMON  PREACHED 


why  we  should  not  endeavour,  by  the  likeliest  methods 
we  can,  to  better  the  world,  or  keep  it  from  growing  worse. 
The  good  tendency  of  the  method  before  us  is  unques- 
tionable. And  I  think  myself  obliged  to  add,  that 
upon  a  comparison  of  parishes  where  charity-schools 
have  been  for  a  considerable  time  established,  with 
neighbouring  ones,  in  like  situations,  which  have  had 
none,  the  good  effects  of  them,  as  I  am  very  credibly 
informed,  are  most  manifest.  Notwithstanding  I  freelv 
own,  that  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  make  the  necessary 
comparisons  in  this  case,  and  form  a  judgment  upon 
them.  And  a  multitude  of  circumstances  must  come  in 
to  determine,  from  appearances  only,  concerning  the 
positive  good  which  is  produced  by  this  charity,  and  the 
evil  which  is  prevented  by  it;  which  last  is  full  as  material 
as  the  former,  and  can  scarce  be  estimated  at  all.  But 
surely  there  can  be  no  doubt  whether  it  be  useful  or  not, 
to  educate  children  in  order,  virtue,  and  religion. 

However,  suppose,  which  is  yet  far  from  being  the  case, 
but  suppose  it  should  seem,  that  this  undertaking  did  not 
answer  the  expense  and  trouble  of  it,  in  the  civil  or 
political  way  of  considering  things.  AVhat  is  this  to 
persons  who  profess  to  be  engaged  in  it,  not  only  upon 
mere  civil  views,  but  upon  moral  and  Christian  ones  ? 
We  are  to  do  our  endeavours  to  promote  virtue  and 
religion  amongst  men,  and  leave  the  success  to  God:  the 
designs  of  his  providence  are  answered  by  these  endea- 
vours, whether  they  will  hear,  or  whether  they  will  forbear; 
i.  e.  whatever  be  the  success  of  them:  and  the  least 
success  in  such  endeavours  is  a  great  and  valuable  effect.* 

From  these  foregoing  observations,  duly  considered, 
it  will  appear  that  the  objections,  which  have  been  made 
against  charity-schools,  are  to  be  regarded  in  the  same 
light  with  those  which  are  made  against  any  other 
necessary  things ;  for  instance,  against  providing  for  the 
sick  and  the  aged  poor.  Objections  in  this  latter  case 
could  be  considered  no  otherwise  than  merely  as  warnings 
of  some  inconvenience  which  might  accompany  such 
charity,  and  might,  more  or  less,  be  guarded  against,  the 
charity  itself  being  still  kept  up;  or  as  proposals  for 

*  See  the  Sermon  before  the  Society  for  the  Fropagatioo  of  the  Gospel. 


AT  CHRIST-CHURCH,  LONDON. 


239 


placing  it  upon  some  better  foot.  For  though,  amidst 
the  disorder  and  imperfection  in  all  human  things,  these 
objections  were  not  obviated,  they  could  not  however 
possibly  be  understood  as  reasons  for  discontinuing  such 
charity ;  because,  thus  understood,  they  would  be  reasons 
for  leaving  necessitous  people  to  perish.  Well-disposed 
persons  therefore  will  take  care,  that  they  be  not  deluded 
with  objections  against  this  before  us,  any  more  than 
against  other  necessary  charities;  as  though  such 
objections  were  reasons  for  suppressing  them,  or  not 
contributing  to  their  support,  unless  we  can  procure  an 
alteration  of  that  to  which  we  object.  There  can  be 
no  possible  reasons  for  leaving  poor  children  in  that 
imminent  danger  of  ruin,  in  which  many  of  these  must 
be  left,  were  it  not  for  this  charity.  Therefore  objections 
against  it  cannot,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  amount  to 
more  than  reasons  for  endeavouring,  whether  with  or 
without  success,  to  put  it  upon  a  right  and  unexception- 
able foot,  in  the  particular  respects  objected  against. 
And  if  this  be  the  intention  of  the  objectors,  the  managers 
of  it  have  shown  themselves  remarkably  ready  to  second 
them:  for  they  have  shown  even  a  docility  in  receiving 
admonitions  of  any  thing  thought  amiss  in  it,  and  pro- 
posals for  rendering  it  more  complete:  and,  under  the 
influence  of  this  good  spirit,  the  management  of  it  is 
really  improving;  particularly  in  greater  endeavours  to 
introduce  manufactures  into  these  schools;  and  in  more 
particular  care  to  place  the  children  out  to  employments 
in  which  they  are  most  wanted,  and  may  be  most 
serviceable,  and  which  are  most  suitable  to  their  ranks. 
But  if  there  be  any  thing  in  the  management  of  them, 
which  some  particular  persons  think  should  be  altered, 
and  others  are  of  a  contrary  opinion,  these  things  must 
be  referred  to  the  judgment  of  the  public,  and  the  deter- 
mination of  the  public  complied  with.  Such  compliance 
is  an  essential  principle  of  all  charitable  associations ; 
for  without  it  they  could  not  subsist  at  all:  and  by 
charitable  associations,  multitudes  are  put  in  mind  to  do 
good,  who  otherwise  would  not  have  thought  of  it;  and 
infinitely  more  good  may  be  done,  than  possibly  can  by 
the  separate  endeavours  of  the  same  number  of  charitable 


240 


A  SERMON,  ETC. 


persons.  Now  he  who  refuses  to  help  forward  the  good 
work  before  us,  because  it  is  not  conducted  exactly  in 
his  own  way,  breaks  in  upon  that  general  principle  of 
union,  which  those  who  are  friends  to  the  indigent  and 
distressed  part  of  our  fellow  creatures  will  be  very 
cautious  how  they  do  in  any  case:  but  more  especially 
will  they  beware,  how  they  break  in  upon  that  necessary 
principle  in  a  case  of  so  great  importance  as  is  the 
present.  For  the  public  is  as  much  interested  in  the 
education  of  poor  children,  as  in  the  preservation  of  their 
lives. 

This  last,  I  observed,  is  legally  provided  for.  The 
former  is  left  amongst  other  works  of  charity,  neglected 
by  many  who  care  for  none  of  these  things,  and  to  be 
carried  on  by  such  only  as  think  it  their  concern  to  be 
doing  good.  Some  of  you  are  able,  and  in  a  situation, 
to  assist  in  it  in  an  eminent  degree,  by  being  trustees, 
and  overlooking  the  management  of  these  schools;  or  in 
different  ways  countenancing  and  recommending  them; 
as  well  as  by  contributing  to  their  maintenance:  others 
can  assist  only  in  this  latter  way.  In  what  manner  and 
degree  then  it  belongs  to  you,  and  to  me,  and  to  any 
particular  person,  to  help  it  forward,  let  us  all  considei 
seriously,  not  for  one  another,  but  each  of  us  for  himself. 

And  may  the  blessing  of  Almighty  God  accompany  this 
work  of  charity,  which  he  has  put  into  the  hearts  of 
his  servants,  in  behalf  of  these  poor  children;  that 
being  now  trained  up  in  the  vmy  they  should  go,  when 
they  are  old  they  may  not  depart  from  it.  May  he,  of  his 
mercy  keep  them  safe  amidst  the  innumerable  dangers 
of  this  bad  world,  through  which  they  are  to  pasa, 
and  preserve  them  unto  his  heavenly  kingdom. 


A  SERMON,  ETC. 


241 


SERMON  V. 

PMACHED  BEFORE  THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS,  IN  THE  ABBEY-CHURCH  OF  WEST. 
MJNSTER,  ON  THURSDAY,  JUNE  11.  1747,  BEING  THE  ANNIVERSARY  OF  HIS 
MAJESTY'S  HAPPY  ACCESSION  TO  THE  THRONE. 

I  exhort,  that,  first  of  all,  supplications,  prayers,  intercessions,  ana 
giving  of  thanks,  be  made  for  all  men  ;  for  kings,  and  for  all  that 
are  in  authority  ;  that  we  may  lead  a  quiet  and  peaceable  life,  in 
all  godliness  and  honesty. — 1  Tim.  ii.  1,  2. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  general  end  which  Pro 
vidence  has  appointed  us  to  aim  at  in  our  passage  through 
the  present  world,  in  more  expressive  words  than  these 
very  plain  ones  of  the  apostle,  to  lead  a  quiet  and  peace- 
able life,  in  all  godliness  and  honesty:  a  quiet  and  peace- 
able life,  by  way  of  distinction,  surely,  from  eager  tumul- 
tuary pursuits  in  our  private  capacity,  as  well  as  in 
opposition  both  to  our  making  insurrections  in  the  state, 
and  to  our  suffering  oppression  from  it.  To  lead  a  quirt 
and  peaceable  life  in  all  godliness  and  honesty,  is  the  whole 
that  we  have  any  reason  to  be  concerned  for.  To  this 
the  constitution  of  our  nature  carries  us ;  and  our  external 
condition  is  adapted  to  it. 

Now  in  aid  to  this  general  appointment  of  Providence 
civil  government  has  been  instituted  over  the  world,  both 
by  the  light  of  nature  and  by  revelation,  to  instruct  men 
in  the  duties  of  fidelity,  justice,  and  regard  to  common 
good,  and  enforce  the  practice  of  these  virtues,  without 
which  there  could  have  been  no  peace  or  quiet  amongst 
mankind;  and  to  preserve,  in  different  ways,  a  sense  of 
religion  as  well  as  virtue,  and  of  God's  authority  over  us 
For  if  we  could  suppose  men  to  have  lived  out  of  govern- 
ment, they  must  have  run  wild,  and  all  knowledge  of 
divine  things  must  have  been  lost  from  among  them. 
But  by  means  of  their  uniting  under  it,  they  have  been 
preserved  in  some  tolerable  security  from  the  fraud  and 
violence  of  each  other;  order,  a  sense  of  virtue,  and  the 
practice  ol  i,  has  been  in  some  measure  kept  up;  and 
reiigion,  more  or  less  pure,  has  been  all  along  spread  and 
propagated.    So  that  I  make  no  scruple  to  affirm,  that 

<4 


242 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


civil  government  has  been,  in  all  ages,  a  standing  publi- 
cation of  the  law  of  nature,  and  an  enforcement  of  it; 
though  never  in  its  perfection,  for  the  most  part  greatly 
corrupted,  and  I  suppose  always  so  in  some  degree. 

And  considering  that  civil  government  is  that  part  of 
God  s  government  over  the  world,  which  he  exercises  by 
the  instrumentality  of  men,  wherein  that  which  is  oppres- 
sion, injustice,  cruelty,  as  coming  from  them,  is  under  his 
direction,  necessary  discipline,  and  just  punishment; 
considering  that  all  power  is  of  God,*  all  authority  is 
properly  of  divine  appointment;  men's  very  living  under 
magistracy  might  naturally  have  led  them  to  the  contem- 
plation of  authority  in  its  source  and  origin ;  the  one, 
supreme,  absolute  authority  of  Almighty  God;  by  which 
he  doeth  according  to  his  will  in  the  army  of  heaven,  and 
among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  :t  which  he  now  exerts, 
visibly  and  invisibly,  by  different  instruments,  in  different 
forms  of  administration,  different  methods  of  discipline 
and  punishment;  and  which  he  will  continue  to  exert 
hereafter,  not  only  over  mankind  when  this  mortal  life 
shall  be  ended,  but  throughout  his  universal  kingdom; 
till,  by  having  rendered  to  all  according  to  their  works, 
he  shall  have  completely  executed  that  just  scheme  of 
government,  which  he  has  already  begun  to  execute  in 
this  world,  by  their  hands,  whom  he  has  appointed,  for 
the  present  punishment  of  evil-doers,  and  for  the  praise  of 
them  that  do  well.X 

And  though  that  perfection  of  justice  cannot  in  any 
sort  take  place  in  this  world,  even  under  the  very  best 
governments  ;  yet  under  the  worst,  men  have  been 
enabled  to  lead  much  more  quiet  and  peaceable  lives,  as 
well  as  attend  to  and  keep  up  a  sense  of  religion  much 
more,  than  they  could  possibly  have  done  without  any 
government  -at  all.  But  a  free  Christian  government  is 
adapted  to  answer  these  purposes  in  a  higher  degree,  in 
proportion  to  its  just  liberty,  and  the  purity  of  its  reli- 
gious establishment.  And  as  we  enjoy  these  advantages, 
civil  and  religious,  in  a  very  eminent  deg>  ee,  under  a 
good  prince,  and  those  he  has  placed  in  authority  over 
us,  we  are  eminently  obliged  to  offer  up  supplications 

*  Rom.  xiii.  1.  f  *>M.  It.  38.  %  1  Pet  ii.  14. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS. 


243 


and  thanksgivings  in  their  behalf;  to  pay  them  all  that 
duty  which  these  prayers  imply;  and  to  lead,  as  those 
advantages  enable  and  have  a  tendency  ti  dispose  us  to 
do,  quiet  and  peaceable  lives  in  all  godliness  and  honesty. 

Of  the  former  of  these  advantages,  our  free  constitu- 
tion of  civil  government,  we  seem  to  have  a  very  high 
value.  And  if  we  would  keep  clear  from  abuses  of  it, 
it  could  not  be  overvalued ;  otherwise  than  as  every  thing 
may,  when  considered  as  respecting  this  world  only.  We 
seem,  1  say,  sufficiently  sensible  of  the  value  of  our  civil 
liberty.  It  is  our  daily  boast,  and  we  are  in  the  highest 
degree  jealous  of  it.  Would  to  God  we  were  somewhat 
more  judicious  in  our  jealousy  of  it,  so  as  to  guard 
against  its  chief  enemy,  one  might  say,  the  only  enemy 
of  it,  we  have  at  present  to  fear;  I  mean  licentiousness; 
which  has  undermined  so  many  free  governments,  and 
without  whose  treacherous  help  no  free  government, 
perhaps,  ever  was  undermined.  This  licentiousness 
indeed  is  net  only  dangerous  to  liberty,  but  it  is  actually 
a  present  infringement  of  it  in  many  instances. — But  I 
must  not  turn  this  good  day  into  a  day  of  reproach. 
Dropping  then  the  encroachments  which  are  made  upon 
our  liberty,  peace,  and  quiet  by  licentiousness,  we  are 
certainly  a  freer  nation  than  any  other  we  have  an  account 
of;  and  as  free,  it  seems,  as  the  very  nature  of  govern- 
ment will  permit.  Every  man  is  equally  under  the 
protection  of  the  laws;  may  have  equal  justice  against 
the  most  rich  and  powerful;  and  securely  enjoy  all  the 
common  blessings  of  life,  with  which  the  industry  of  his 
ancestors,  or  his  own,  has  furnished  him.  In  some  other 
countries  the  upper  part  of  the  world  is  free,  but  in  Great 
Britain  the  whole  body  of  the  people  is  free.  For  we 
have  at  length,  to  the  distinguished  honour  of  those  who 
began,  and  have  more  particularly  laboured  in  it, 
emancipated  our  northern  provinces  from  most  of 
their  legal  remains  of  slavery :  for  voluntary  slavery 
cannot  be  abolished,  at  least  not  directly,  by  law.  I  take 
leave  to  speak  of  this  long-desired  work  as  done;  since 
it  wants  only  his  concurrence,  who,  as  we  have  found  bv 
many  years'  experience,  considers  the  good  of  his  people 
as  his  own.    And  I  cannot  but  look  upon  these  acts  ol 

O  2 


244 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


the  legislature  in  a  further  view,  as  instances  of  regard  to 
posterity;  and  declarations  of  its  readiness  to  put  every 
subject  upon  an  equal  foot  of  security  and  freedom,  if  any 
of  them  are  not  so,  in  any  other  respects,  which  come 
into  its  view;  and  as  a  precedent  and  example  for  doing  it. 

Libertv,  which  is  the  verv  genius  of  our  civil  constitu- 
tion,  and  runs  through  every  branch  of  it,  extends  its 
influence  to  the  ecclesiastical  part  of  it.  A  religious 
establishment  without  a  toleration  of  such  as  think  they 
cannot  in  conscience  conform  to  it,  is  itself  a  general 
tyranny;  because  it  claims  absolute  authority  over 
conscience;  and  would  soon  beget  particular  kinds  of 
tyranny  of  the  worse  sort,  tyranny  over  the  mind,  and 
various  superstitions ;  after  the  way  should  be  paved  for 
them,  as  it  soon  must,  by  ignorance.  On  the  other  hand, 
a  constitution  of  civil  government  without  any  religious 
establishment  is  a  chimerical  project,  of  which  there  is 
no  example  :  and  which,  leaving  the"  generality  without 
guide  and  instruction,  must  leave  religion  to  be  sunk  and 
forgotten  amongst  them  ;  and  at  the  same  time  give  full 
^cope  to  superstition,  and  the  gloom  of  enthusiasm ;  which 
last,  especially,  ought  surely  to  be  diverted  and  checked, 
as  far  as  it  can  be  done  without  force.  Now  a  reasonable 
establishment  provides  instruction  for  the  ignorant, 
withdraws  them,  not  in  the  way  of  force,  but  of  guidance, 
from  running  after  those  kinds  of  conceits.  It  doubtless 
has  a  tendency  likewise  to  keep  up  a  sense  of  real 
religion  and  real  Christianity  in  a  nation;  and  is  moreover 
necessary  for  the  encouragement  of  learning;  some  parts 
of  which  the  scripture  revelation  absolutely  requires 
should  be  cultivated. 

It  is  to  be  remarked  further,  that  the  value  of  any 
particular  religious  establishment  is  not  to  be  estimated 
merely  by  what  it  is  in  itself,  but  also  by  what  it  is  in 
comparison  with  those  of  other  nations ;  a  comparison 
which  will  sufficiently  teach  us  not  to  expect  perfection 
in  human  things.  And  what  is  still  more  material,  the 
value  of  our  own  ought  to  be  very  much  heightened  in 
our  esteem,  by  considering  what  it  is  a  security  from;  I 
mean  that  great  corruption  of  Christianity,  popery,  which 
is  ever  hard  at  work  to  bring  us  again  under  its  yoke. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS. 


245 


Whoever  will  consider  the  popish  claims,  to  the  disposal 
of  the  whole  earth,  as  of  divine  right,  to  dispense  with 
the  most  sacred  engagements,  the  claims  to  supreme 
absolute  authority  in  religion;  in  short,  the  general  claims 
which  the  canonists  express  by  the  words  plenitude  oj 
povier — whoever,  I  say,  will  consider  popery  as  it  is 
professed  at  Rome,  may  see,  that  it  is  manifest,  open 
usurpation  of  all  human  and  divine  authority.  But  even 
in  those  Roman  Catholic  countries  where  these  monstrous 
claims  are  not  admitted,  and  the  civil  power  does,  in 
many  respects,  restrain  the  papal;  yet  persecution  is 
professed,  as  it  is  absolutely  enjoined  by  what  is 
acknowledged  to  be  their  highest  authority,  a  general 
council,  so  called,  with  the  pope  at  the  head  of  it;  and  is 
practised  in  all  of  them,  I  think  without  exception,  where 
it  can  be  done  safely.  Thus  they  go  on  to  substitute 
force  instead  of  argun.  ent;  and  external  profession  made 
by  force  instead  of  reasonable  conviction  And  thus  cor- 
ruptions of  the  grossest  sort  have  been  in  vogue,  for  manv 
generations,  in  parts  many  of  Christendom;  and  are  so 
still,  even  where  popery  obtains  in  its  least  absurd  form: 
and  their  antiquity  and  wide  extent  are  insisted  upon  as 
proofs  of  their  truth;  a  kind  of  proof,  which  at  best  can 
be  only  presumptive,  but  which  loses  all  its  little  weight, 
in  proportion  as  the  long  and  large  prevalence  of  such 
corruptions  have  been  obtained  by  force. 

Indeed  it  is  said  in  the  book  of  Job,  that  the  worship 
of  the  sun  and  moon  was  an  iniquity  to  be  punished  by  the 
judge*  And  this,  though  it  is  not  so  much  as  a  precept, 
much  less  a  general  one,  is,  I  think,  the  only  passage  of 
scripture  which  can  with  any  colour  be  alleged  in  favour 
of  persecution  of  any  sort:  for  what  the  Jews  did,  and 
what  they  were  commanded  to  do,  under  their  theocracy, 
are  both  quite  out  of  the  case.  But  whenever  that  book 
was  written,  the  scene  of  it  is  laid  at  a  time  when  idolatry 
was  in  its  infancy,  an  acknowledged  novelty,  essentially 
destructive  of  true  religion,  arising  perhaps  from  men: 
wantonness  of  imagination.  In  these  circumstances, 
this  greatest  of  evils,  which  afterwards  laid  waste  true 
religion  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  might  have  been 

*  .lob  xxxi  26.  27,  28. 


246 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


suppressed  at  once,  without  danger  of  mistake  or  abuse, 
And  one  might  go  on  to  add,  that  if  those  to  whom  the 
care  of  this  belonged,  instead  of  serving  themselves  of 
prevailing  superstitions,  had  in  all  ages  and  countries 
opposed  them  in  their  rise,  and  adhered  faithfully  to  that 
primitive  religion,  which  was  received  of  old,  since  man 
was  placed  upon  earth;*  there  could  not  possibly  have 
been  any  such  difference  of  opinion  concerning  the 
Almighty  Governor  of  the  world,  as  could  have  given 
any  pretence  for  tolerating  the  idolatries  which  overspread 
it.  On  the  contrary,  his  universal  monarchy  must  have 
been  universally  recognised,  and  the  general  laws  of  it 
more  ascertained  and  known,  than  the  municipal  ones  of 
any  particular  country  can  be.  In  such  a  state  of  religion, 
as  it  could  not  but  have  been  acknowledged  by  all  man- 
kind, that  immorality  of  every  sort  was  disloyalty  to  him, 
the  high  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name 
is  holy  ;t  so  it  could  not  but  have  .been  manifest,  that 
idolatry,  in  those  determinate  instances  of  it,  was  plain 
rebellion  against  him;  and  therefore  might  have  been 
punished  as  an  offence,  of  the  highest  kind,  against  the 
Supreme  Authority  in  nature.  But  this  is  in  no  sort 
applicable  to  the  present  state  of  religion  in  the  world. 
For  if  the  principle  of  punishing  idolatry  were  now  admit- 
ted amongst  the  several  different  parties  in  religion,  the 
weakest  in  every  place  would  run  a  great  risk  of  being 
convicted  of  it;  or  however  heresy  and  schism  would 
soon  be  found  crimes  of  the  same  nature,  and  equally 
deserving  punishment.  Thus  the  spirit  of  persecution 
would  range  without  any  stop  or  control,  but  what  should 
arise  from  its  want  of  power.  But  our  religious 
establishment  disclaims  all  principles  of  this  kind,  and 
desires  not  to  keep  persons  in  its  communion,  or  gain 
proselytes  to  it,  by  any  other  methods  than  the  Christian 
ones  of  argument  and  conviction. 

These  hints  may  serve  to  remind  us  of  the  value  we 
ought  to  set  upon  our  constitution  in  Church  and  State, 
the  advantages  of  which  are  the  proper  subjects  of  our 
commemoration  on  this  day,  as  his  majesty  has  shown 
himself,  not  in  words,  but  in  the  whole  course  of  his  reign, 

*  Job  xx.  4.  +  Isaiah  Ivii.  )». 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS. 


247 


the  guardian  and  protector  of  both.  And  the  blessings 
of  his  reign  are  not  only  rendered  more  sensible,  but 
are  really  heightened,  by  its  securing  us  from  that 
pretender  to  his  crown,  whom  we  had  almost  forgot,  till 
our  late  danger  renewed  our  apprehensions;  who,  wc 
know,  is  a  professed  enemy  to  our  church;  and  grown 
old  in  resentments  and  maxims  of  government  directly 
contrary  to  our  civil  constitution;  nay  his  very  claim  is 
founded  in  principles  destructive  of  it.  Our  deliverance 
and  our  security  from  this  danger,  with  all  the  other 
blessings  of  the  king's  government,  are  so  many  reasons, 
for  supplications,  prayers,  intercessions,  and  giving  of 
thanks,  to  which  we  are  exhorted;  as  well  as  for  all 
other  dutiful  behaviour  towards  it;  and  should  also 
remind  us  to  take  care  and  make  due  improvement  of 
those  blessings,  by  leading,  in  the  enjoyment  of  them, 
quiet  and  peaceable  lives,  in  all  godliness  and  honesty. 

The  Jewish  church  offered  sacrifices  even  for  heathen 
princes  to  whom  they  were  in  subjection:  and  the 
primitive  Christian  church,  the  Christian  sacrifices  of 
supplications  and  prayers  for  the  prosperity  of  the 
emperor  and  the  state;  though  they  were  falsely  accused 
ol  being  enemies  to  both,  because  they  would  not  join 
in  their  idolatries.  In  conformity  to  these  examples  of 
the  church  of  God  in  all  ages,  prayers  for  the  king  and 
those  in  authority  under  him  are  part  of  the  daily  service 
of  our  own.  And  for  the  day  of  his  inauguration  a 
particular  service  is  appointed,  which  we  are  here 
assembled  in  the  house  of  God  to  celebrate.  This  is 
the  first  duty  we  owe  to  kings,  and  those  who  are  in 
authority  under  them,  that  we  make  prayers  and 
thanksgivings  for  them.  And  in  it  is  comprehended, 
what  yet  may  be  considered  as  another,  paying  them 
honour  and  reverence.  Praying  for  them  is  itself  an 
instance  and  expression  of  this,  as  it  gives  them  a  part 
in  our  highest  solemnities.  It  also  reminds  us  of  that 
further  honour  and  reverence  which  we  are  to  pay  them, 
as  occasions  offer,  throughout  the  whole  course  of  our 
behaviour.  Fear  God,  honour  the  king*  are  apostolic 
precepts ;  and  despising  government,  and  speaking  evil  of 


248 


•  A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE 


dignities,  apostolic  descriptions  of  such  as  are  reserved 
unto  the  day  of  judgment  to  be  punished.i  And  if  these 
t'vil  speeches  are  so  highly  criminal,  it  cannot  be  a  thing 
very  innocent  to  make  a  custom  of  entertaining  our- 
selves with  them. 

Further,  if  we  are  to  pray,  that  we  may,  that  it  may 
be  permitted  us,  to  lead  a  quiet  and  peaceable  life,  we 
ought  surely  to  live  so,  when,  by  means  of  a  mild,  equa. 
government,  it  is  permitted  us;  and  be  very  thankful, 
first  to  God,  and  then  to  those  whom  he  makes  the 
instruments  of  so  great  good  to  us,  and  pay  them  all 
obedience  and  duty;  though  every  thing  be  not  conductea 
according  to  our  judgment,  nor  every  person  in  employ- 
ment whom  we  may  think  deserving  of  it.  Indeed 
opposition,  in  a  legal,  regular  way,  to  measures  which  a 
person  thinks  wrong,  cannot  but  be  allowed  in  a  free 
government.  Jt  is  in  itself  just,  and  also  keeps  up  the 
spirit  of  liberty.  But  opposition,  from  indirect  motives, 
to  measures  which  he  sees  to  be  necessary,  is  itself 
immoral:  it  keeps  up  the  spirit  of  licentiousness;  is  the 
greatest  reproach  of  liberty,  and  in  many  ways  most 
dangerous  to  it;  and  has  been  a  principal  iruans  of 
overturning  free  governments.  It  is  well  too  if  the  legal 
subjection  to  the  government  we  live  under,  which  may 
accompany  such  behaviour,  be  not  the  reverse  of 
Christian  subjection;  subjection  for  wrath  only,  and  not 
jar  conscience"  sake.t  And  one  who  wishes  well  to  his 
country  will  beware  how  he  inflames  the  common 
people  against  measures,  whether  right  or  wrong,  which 
they  are  not  judges  of.  For  no  one  can  foresee  how  far 
such  disaffection  will  extend;  but  every  one  sees,  that  it 
diminishes  the  reverence  which  is  certainly  owing  to 
authority.  Our  due  regards  to  these  things  are  indeed 
instances  of  our  loyalty,  but  they  are  in  reality  as  much 
instances  of  our  patriotism  too.  Happy  the  people  who 
live  under  a  prince,  the  justice  of  whose  government 
renders  them  coincident. 

Lastly,  As  by  tbe  good  providence  of  God  we  were 
born  under  a  free  government,  and  are  members  of  a  pure 
reformed  church,  buth  of  which  he  has  wonderfully 

*  2  Pet.  ii.  10.  t  •>  Pet  ii.  9.  %  Rom.  xiii.  5. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS. 


249 


preserved  through  infinite  dangers;  if  we  do  not  take 
heed  to  live  like  Christians,  nor  to  govern  ourselves  with 
decency  in  those  respects  in  which  we  are  free,  we  shall 
be  a  dishonour  to  both.  Both  are  most  justly  to  be  valued  : 
but  they  may  be  valued  in  the  wron<r  place.  It  s  no  more 
a  recommendation  of  civil,  than  it  is  of  natural  uoerry,* 
that  it  must  put  us  into  a  capacity  of  behaving  ill.  Let 
us  then  value  our  civil  constitution,  not  because  it  leaves 
us  the  power  of  acting  as  mere  humour  and  passion  carry 
us,  in  those  respects,  in  which  governments  less  free  lay 
men  under  restraints;  but  for  its  equal  laws,  by  which 
the  great  are  disabled  from  oppressing  those  below  them. 
Let  us  transfer,  each  of  us,  the  equity  of  this  our  civil 
constitution  to  our  whole  personal  character;  and  be  sure 
to  be  as  much  afraid  of  subjection  to  mere  arbitrary  will 
and  pleasure  in  ourselves,  as  to  the  arbitrary  will  of 
others.  For  the  tyranny  of  our  own  lawless  passions  is 
the  nearest  and  most  dangerous  of  all  tyrannies. 

Then  as  to  the  other  part  of  our  constitution;  let  us 
value  it,  not  because  it  leaves  us  at  liberty  to  have  as 
little  religion  as  we  please,  without  being  accountable  to 
human  judicatories;  but  because  it  affords  us  the  means 
and  assistances  to  worship  God  according  to  his  word; 
because  it  exhibits  to  our  view,  and  enforces  upon  our 
conscience,  genuine  Christianity,  free  from  the  supersti- 
tions with  which  it  is  defiled  in  other  countries.  These 
superstitions  naturally  tend  to  abate  its  force:  our  pro- 
fession of  it  in  its  purity  is  a  particular  call  upon  us  to 
yield  ourselves  up  to  its  full  influence;  to  be  pure  in 
heart,"},  to  be  holy  in  all  manner  of  conversation.%  Much 
of  the  form  of  godliness  is  laid  aside  amongst  us:  this  itself 
should  admonish  us  to  attend  more  to  the  power  thereof  § 
We  have  discarded  many  burdensome  ceremonies:  let  us 
be  the  more  careful  to  cultivate  inward  religion.  We  have 
thrown  off  a  multitude  of  superstitious  practices,  which 
were  called  good  works:  let  as  the  more  abound  in  all 
moral  virtues,  these  being  unquestionably  such.  Thus 
our  lives  will  justify  and  recommend  the  reformation; 
and  we  shall  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  our  Saviour  in  all 
ihinys.W 

*  Natural  liberty  a<  opposed  to  necessity,  or  fate 
f  Matt  v.  8.       %  I  Pet.  i.  15.       §  2  Tim.  iii.  5.       ||  Titus  ii.  10. 


250 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE  THE 


SERMON  VI. 

PREACHED  feEFORE  HIS  GRACE  CHARLES  DUKE  OF  RICHMOND,  PRESIDENT, 
AND  THE  GOVERNORS  OF  THE  LONDON  INFIRMARY,  FOR  Tl  E  RELIEF  OF 
SICK  AND  DISEASED  PERSONS,  ESPECIALLY  MANUFACTURERS,  AND  SEAMEN 
IN  MERCHANT-SER\  ICE,  &c.  AT  THE  PARISH  CHURCH  OF  ST  LAWRENCE- 
JEWRY  ON  THURSDAY,  MARCH  31,  1748. 

And,  above  all  things,  have  fervent  charity  among  yourselves  :  for 
charity  shall  cover  the  multitude  of  sins. — 1  Pet.  iv.  8. 

As  we  owe  our  being,  and  all  our  faculties,  and  the  veiy 
opportunities  of  exerting  them,  to  Almighty  God,  and  are 
plainly  his  and  not  our  own,  we  are  admonished,  even 
though  we  should  have  done  all  those  things  which  are 
commanded  us,  to  sag,  We  are  unprofitable  servants* 
And  with  much  deeper  humility  must  we  make  this 
acknowledgment,  when  we  consider  in  how  mang  things 
we  have  all  offended.\  But  still  the  behaviour  of  such 
creatures  as  men,  highly  criminal  in  some  respects,  may 
yet  in  others  be  such  as  to  render  them  the  proper  objects 
of  mercy,  and,  our  Saviour  does  not  decline  saying, 
thought  worthy  of  it.%  And,  conformably  to  our  natural 
sense  of  things,  the  Scripture  is  very  express,  that  mercy, 
forgiveness,  and, in  general,  charity  to  our  fellow  creatures, 
has  this  efficacy  in  a  very  high  degree. 

Several  copious  and  remote  reasons  have  been  alleged, 
why  such  pre-eminence  is  given  to  this  grace  or  virtue; 
some  of  great  importance,  and  none  of  them  perhaps 
without  its  weight.  But  the  proper  one  seems  to  be 
very  short  and  obvious,  that  by  fervent  charity,  with  a 
course  of  beneficence  proceeding  from  it,  a  person  may 
make  amends  for  the  good  he  has  blamably  omitted, 
and  the  injuries  he  has  done,  so  far,  as  that  society 
would  have  no  demand  upon  him  for  such  his  misbe- 
haviour; nor  consequently  would  justice  have  any  in 
behalf  of  society,  whatever  it  might  have  upon  other 
accounts.  Thus  by  fervent  charity  he  may  even  merit 
forgiveness  of  men:  and  this  seems  to  afford  a  very 
singular  reason  why  it  mav  be  graciously  granted  him 

*  Luke  xvii.  10.  +  Jamrsiii.  2.         J  Lute  XX.  36. 


GOVERNORS  OF  THE  LONDON  INFIRMARY.  251 

bv  God;  a  very  singular  reason,  the  Christian  covenant 
of  pardon  always  supposed,  why  divine  justice  should 
permit,  and  divine  mercy  appoint,  that  such  his  charity 
should  be  allowed  to  cover  the  multitude  of  sins. 

And  this  reason  leads  me  to  observe,  what  Scripture 
and  the  whole  nature  of  the  thing  shows,  that  the  charity 
here  meant  must  be  sucli  hearty  love  to  our  fellow 
creatures,  as  produceth  a  settled  endeavour  to  promote, 
according  to  the  best  of  our  judgment,  their  real  lasting 
good,  both  present  and  future;  and  not  that  easiness  of 
temper,  which  with  peculiar  propriety  is  expressed  by 
the  word  good- humour,  and  is  a  sort  of  benevolent 
instinct  left  to  itself,  without  the  direction  of  our  judg- 
ment. For  this  kind  of  good-humour  is  so  far  from 
making  the  amends  before  mentioned,  that,  though  it  be 
agreeable  in  conversation,  it  is  often  most  mischievous 
in  every  other  intercourse  of  life ;  and  always  puts  men 
out  of  a  capacity  of  doing  the  good  they  might,  if  they 
could  withstand  importunity,  and  the  sight  of  distress, 
when  the  case  requires  they  should  be  withstood;  many 
instances  of  which  cases  daily  occur,  both  in  public  and 
private.  Nor  is  it  to  be  supposed,  that  we  can  any  more 
promote  the  lasting  good  of  our  fellow  creatures,  by 
acting  from  mere  kind  inclinations,  without  considering 
what  are  the  proper  means  of  promoting  it,  than  that  we 
can  attain  our  own  personal  good,  by  a  thoughtless  pursuit 
of  every  thing  which  pleases  us.  For  the  love  of  our 
neighbour,  as  much  as  self-love,  the  social  affections,  as 
much  as  the  private  ones,  from  their  very  nature,  require 
to  be  under  the  direction  of  our  judgment.  Yet  it  is  to 
be  remembered,  that  it  does  in  no  sort  become  such  a 
creature  as  man  to  harden  himself  against  the  distresses 
of  his  neighbour,  except  where  it  is  really  necessary; 
and  that  even  well-disposed  persons  may  run  into  great 
perplexities,  and  great  mistakes  too,  by  being  over- 
solicitous  in  distinguishing  what  are  the  most  proper 
occasions  for  their  charity,  or  who  the  greatest  objects  of 
it.  And  therefore,  as  on  the  one  side  we  are  obliged 
to  take  some  care  not  to  squander  that  which,  one  may 
say,  belongs  to  the  poor,  as  we  shall  do,  unless  we 
competently  satisfy  ourselves  beforehand,  that  what  we 


252  A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE  THE 


put  to  our  account  of  charity  will  answer  some  good 
purpose ;  so  on  the  other  side,  when  we  are  competently 
satisfied  of  this,  in  any  particular  instance  before  us,  we 
ought  by  no  means  to  neglect  such  present  opportunity 
of  doing  good,  under  the  notion  of  making  further 
inquiries:  for  of  these  delays  there  will  be  no  end. 

Having  thus  briefly  laid  before  you  the  ground  of  that 
singular  efficacy,  which  the  text  ascribes  to  charity  in 
general;  obviated  the  objection  against  its  having  this 
efficacy;  and  distinguished  the  virtue  itself  from  its 
counterfeits;  let  us  now  proceed  to  observe  the  genuine- 
ness and  excellency  of  the  particular  charity,  which  we 
are  here  met  together  to  promote. 

Medicine  and  every  other  relief,  under  the  calamity  of 
bodily  diseases  and  casualties,  no  less  than  the  daily  ne- 
cessaries of  life,  are  natural  provisions,  which  God  has 
made  for  our  present  indigent  state;  and  which  he  has 
granted  in  common  to  the  children  of  men,  whether  they 
be  poor  or  rich:  to  the  rich  by  inheritance,  or  acquisition ; 
and  by  their  hands  to  the  disabled  poor. 

Nor  can  there  be  any  doubt,  but  that  public  infirmaries 
are  the  most  effectual  means  of  administering  such  relief 
besides  that  they  are  attended  with  incidental  advantages 
of  great  importance:  both  which  things  have  been  fulb 
shown,  and  excellently  enforced,  in  the  annual  sermom 
upon  this  and  the  like  occasions. 

But  indeed  public  infirmaries  are  not  only  the  best 
they  are  the  only  possible  means  by  which  the  pooi, 
especially  in  this  city,  can  be  provided,  in  any  competent 
measure,  with  the  several  kinds  of  assistance,  which 
bodily  diseases  and  casualties  require.  Not  to  mention  poor 
foreigners;  it  is  obvious  no  other  provision  can  be  made 
for  poor  strangers  out  of  the  country,  when  they  are  over- 
taken by  these  calamities,  as  they  often  must  be,  whilst 
they  are  occasionally  attending  their  affairs  in  this  centre 
of  business.  But  even  the  poor  who  are  settled  here  are 
in  a  manner  strangers  to  the  people  amongst  whom  they 
live;  and,  were  it  not  for  this  provision,  must  unavoidably 
be  neglected,  in  the  hurry  and  concourse  around  them, 
and  be  left  unobserved  to  languish  in  sickness,  and  suffer 
extremely,  much  more  than  they  could  in  less  pop  llous 


GOVERNORS  OF  THE  LONDON  INFIRMARY.  253 


places;  where  every  one  is  known  to  every  one;  and 
any  great  distress  presently  becomes  the  common  talk; 
and  where  also  poor  families  are  often  under  the  parti- 
cular protection  of  some  or  other  of  their  rich  neighbours, 
in  a  very  different  way  from  what  is  commonly  the  case 
here.  Observations  of  this  kind  show,  that  there  is  a 
peculiar  occasion,  and  even  a  necessity,  in  such  a  city  as 
this,  for  public  infirmaries,  to  which  easy  admittance 
may  be  had:  and  here  in  ours  no  security  is  required, 
nor  any  sort  of  gratification  allowed;  and  that  they 
ought  to  be  multiplied,  or  enlarged,  proportionably  to 
the  increase  of  our  inhabitants:  for  to  this  the  increase 
of  the  poor  will  always  bear  proportion;  though  less  in 
ages  of  sobriety  and  diligence,  and  greater  in  ages  of 
profusion  and  debauchery. 

Now  though  nothing,  to  be  called  an  objection  in  the 
way  of  argument,  can  be  alleged  against  thus  providing 
for  poor  sick  people,  in  the  properest,  indeed  the  only 
way  in  which  they  can  be  provided  for;  yet  persons  of 
too  severe  tempers  can,  even  upon  this  occasion,  talk  in 
a  manner,  which,  contrary  surely  to  their  intention,  has 
a  very  malignant  influence  upon  the  spirit  of  charity — 
talk  of  the  ill  deserts  of  the  poor,  the  good  uses  they 
might  make  of  being  let  to  suffer  more  than  they  do, 
under  distresses  which  they  bring  upon  themselves,  or 
however  might,  by  diligence  and  frugality,  provide 
against;  and  the  idle  uses  they  may  make  of  knowing 
beforehand  that  they  shall  be  relieved  in  case  of  those 
distresses.  Indeed  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  prejudice 
against  them,  arising  from  their  very  state  of  poverty, 
which  ought  greatly  to  be  guarded  against;  a  kind  of 
prejudice,  to  which  perhaps  most  of  us,  upon  some 
occasions,  and  in  some  degree,  may  inattentively  be 
liable,  but  which  pride  and  interest  may  easily  work  up 
to  a  settled  hatred  of  them;  the  utter  reverse  of  that 
amiable  part  of  the  character  of  Job,  that  he  was  a  father 
to  the  poor.*  But  it  is  undoubtedly  fit,  that  such  of 
them  as  are  good  and  industrious  should  have  the  satis- 
faction of  knowing  beforehand,  that  they  shall  be 
le  a  ved  under  diseases  and  casualties:  and  those,  it  is 


*  Job  AXix.  16. 


254 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE  THE 


most  obvious,  ought  to  be  relieved  preferably  to  otners, 
But  these  others,  who  are  not  of  that  good  character, 
might  possibly  have  the  apprehension  of  those  calamities 
in  so  great  a  degree,  as  would  be  very  mischievous,  and 
of  no  service,  if  they  thought  they  must  be  left  to  perish 
under  them.  And  though  their  idleness  and  extrava- 
gance are  very  inexcusable,  and  ought  by  all  reasonable 
methods  to  be  restrained;  and  thev  are  highlv  to  be 
blamed  for  not  making  some  provision  against  age  and 
supposable  disasters,  when  it  is  in  their  power ;  yet  it  is 
not  to  be  desired,  that  the  anxieties  of  avarice  should  be 
added  to  the  natural  inconveniences  of  poverty. 

It  is  said,  that  our  common  fault  towards  the  poor  is 
not  harshness,  but  too  great  lenity  and  indulgence.  And 
if  allowing  them  in  debauchery,  idleness,  and  open 
beggary;  in  drunkenness,  profane  cursing  and  swearing 
in  our  streets,  nay  in  our  houses  of  correction;  if  this  be 
lenity,  there  is  doubtless  a  great  deal  too  much  of  it. 
And  such  lenity  towards  the  poor  is  very  consistent  with 
the  most  cruel  neglects  of  them,  in  the  extreme  misery 
to  which  those  vices  reduce  them.  Now  though  this 
last  certainly  is  not  our  general  fault;  yet  it  cannot  be 
said  every  one  is  free  from  it.  For  this  reason,  and 
that  nothing,  which  has  so  much  as  the  shadow  of  an 
objection  against  our  public  charities,  may  be  entirely 
passed  over,  you  will  give  me  leave  to  consider  a  little 
the  supposed  case  above  mentioned,  though  possibly 
some  may  think  it  unnecessary,  that  of  persons  reduced 
to  poverty  and  distress  by  their  own  faults. 

Instances  of  this  there  certainly  are.  But  it  ought  to 
be  very  distinctly  observed,  that  in  judging  which  are 
such,  we  are  liable  to  be  mistaken :  and  more  liable  to  it, 
in  judging  to  what  degree  those  are  faulty,  who  really 
are  so  in  some  degree.  However,  we  should  always 
look  with  mildness  upon  the  behaviour  of  the  poor; 
and  be  sure  not  to  expect  more  from  them  than  can  be 
expected,  in  a  moderate  way  of  considering  things.  We 
should  be  forward  not  only  to  admit  and  encourage  the 
good  deserts  of  such  as  do  well,  but  likewise  as  to  those 
of  them  who  do  not,  be  ever  ready  to  make  due  allowances 
for  their  bad  education,  or,  which  is  the  same,  their 


GOVERNORS  OF  THE  LONDON  INFIRMARY.  €55 

having  had  none;  for  what  may  be  owing  to  the  ill 
example  of  their  superiors,  as  well  as  companions,  and 
for  temptations  of  all  kinds.  And  remember  always, 
that  be  men's  vices  what  they  will,  they  have  not  forfeited 
their  claim  to  relief  under  necessities,  till  they  have 
forfeited  their  lives  to  justice. 

Our  heavenly  Father  is  kind  to  the  unthankful  and  to  the 
evil;  and  sendeth  his  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust.* 
And,  in  imitation  of  him,  our  Saviour  expressly  requires, 
that  our  beneficence  be  promiscuous.    But  we  have 
moreover  the  divine  example  for  relieving  those  distresses 
which  are  brought  upon  persons  by  their  own  faults;  and 
this  is  exactly  the  case  we  are  considering.    Indeed  the 
general  dispensation  of  Christianity  is  an  example  of  this; 
for  its  general  design  is  to  save  us  from  our  sins,  and  the 
punishments  which  would  have  been  the  just  consequence 
of  them.    But  the  divine  example  in  the  daily  course  of 
nature  is  a  more  obvious    and   sensible  one.  And 
though  the  natural  miseries  which  are  foreseen  to  be 
annexed  to  a  vicious  course  of  life  are  providentialiv 
intended  to  prevent  it,  in  the  same  manner  as  civil 
penalties  are  intended  to  prevent  civil  crimes;  yet  those 
mis  ri  s,  those  natural  penalties  admit  of  and  receive 
natural  reliefs,  no  less  than  any  other  miseries,  which 
could  not  have  been  foreseen  or  prevented.  Charitable 
providence  then,  thus  manifested  in  the  course  of  nature, 
which  is  the  example  of  our  heavenly  Father,  most 
evidently  leads  us  to  relieve,  not  only  such  distresses  as 
were  unavoidable,  but  also  such  as  people  by  their  own 
faults  have  brought  upon  themselves.    The  case  is,  that 
we  cannot  judge  in  what  degree  it  was  intended  they 
should  suffer,  by  considering  what,  in  the  natural  course 
of  things,  would  be  the  whole  bad  consequences  of  their 
faults,  if  those  consequences  were  not  prevented,  when 
nature  has  provided  means  to  prevent  great  part  of  them. 
We  cannot,  for  instance,  estimate  what  degree  of  present 
sufferings  God  has  annexed  to  drunkenness,  by  consider- 
ing the  diseases  which  follow  from  this  vice,  as  they 
would  be  if  they  admitted  of  no  reliefs  or  remedies;  but 
by  considering  the  remaining  misery  of  those  diseases, 

*  Matt,  v  45.  Luke  vi.  Ji. 


256 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE  THE 


after  the  application  of  such  remedies  as  nature  lias 
provided.  For  as  it  is  certain  on  the  one  side,  that  those 
diseases  are  providential  corrections  of  intemperance,  it 
is  as  certain  on  the  other,  that  the  remedies  are 
providential  mitigations  of  those  corrections;  and  altt- 
gether  as  much  providential,  when  administered  by  the 
good  hand  of  charity  in  the  case  of  our  neighbour,  as 
when  administered  by  self-love  in  our  own.  Thus  the 
pain,  and  danger,  and  other  distresses  of  sickness  and 
poverty  remaining,  after  all  the  charitable  relief  which 
can  be  procured;  and  the  many  uneasy  circumstance" 
which  cannot  but  accompany  that  relief,  though  distribute? 
with  all  supposable  humanity ;  these  are  the  natural  cor 
rections  of  idleness  and  debauchery,  supposing  these 
vices  brought  on  those  miseries.  And  -very  severe 
corrections  they  are  :  and  they  ought  not  to  be  increased 
by  withholding  that  relief,  or  by  harshness  in  the  distri- 
bution of  it.  Corrections  of  all  kinds,  even  the  most 
necessary  ones,  may  easily  exceed  their  proper  bound: 
and  when  they  do  so,  they  become  mischievous;  and 
mischievous  in  the  measure  they  exceed  it.  And  the 
natural  corrections  which  we  have  been  speaking  of 
would  be  excessive,  if  the  natural  mitigations  provided 
for  them  were  not  administered. 

Then  persons  who  are  so  scrupulously  apprehensive 
of  every  thing  which  can  possibly,  in  the  most  indirect 
manner,  encourage  idleness  and  vice  (which,  by  the  way, 
any  thing  may  accidentally  do),  ought  to  turn  their 
thoughts  to  the  moral  and  religious  tendency  of 
infirmaries.  The  religious  manner  in  which  they  are 
carried  on  has  itself  a  direct  tendency  to  bring  the 
subject  of  religion  into  the  consideration  of  those  whom 
they  relieve  ;  and,  in  some  degree,  to  recommend  it 
to  their  love  and  practice,  as  it  is  productive  of  so 
much  good  to  them,  as  restored  ease  and  health,  and 
a  capacity  of  resuming  their  several  employments.  It  is 
to  virtue  and  religion,  they  may  mildly  be  admonished, 
that  they  are  indebted  for  their  relief.  And  this, 
amongst  other  admonitions  of  their  spiritual  guide,  and 
the  quiet  and  order  of  their  house,  out  of  the  way  o( 
bad  examples,  together  with  a  regular  course  of  devotion. 


GOVERNORS  OF  THK  LONDON  INFIRMARY 


257 


which  it  were  greatly  to  be  wished  might  be  daily;  these 
means,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  with  the  common  grace  of 
God,  may  enforce  deeply  upon  their  consciences  those 
serious  considerations,  to  which  a  state  of  affliction 
naturally  renders  the  mind  attentive,  and  that  they  will 
return,  as  from  a  religious  retreat,  to  their  several 
employments  in  the  world,  with  lasting  impressions  of 
piety  in  their  hearts.  By  such  united  advantages,  which 
these  poor  creatures  can  in  no  sort  have  any  other  way, 
very  remarkable  reformations  have  been  wrought. 
Persons  of  the  strictest  characters  therefore  would  give 
a  more  satisfactory  proof,  not  to  the  world,  but  to  then- 
own  consciences,  of  their  desire  to  suppress  vice  and 
idleness,  by  setting  themselves  to  cultivate  the  religious 
part  of  the  institution  of  infirmaries,  which,  I  think, 
would  admit  of  great  improvements;  than  by  allowing 
themselves  to  talk  in  a  manner  which  tends  to  discoun- 
tenance either  the  institution  itself,  or  any  particular 
branch  of  it. 

Admitting  then  the  usefulness  and  necessity  of  these 
kinds  of  charity,  which  indeed  cannot  be  denied;  yet 
(very  thing  has  its  bounds.  And,  in  the  spirit  of  severity 
before  mentioned,  it  is  imagined,  that  people  are  enough 
disposed,  such,  it  seems,  is  the  present  turn,  to  contribute 
largely  to  them.  And  some,  whether  from  dislike  of  the 
charities  themselves,  or  from  mere  profligateness,  think 
these  formal  recommendations  of  them  at  church  every  year 
might  very  well  be  spared. 

But  surely  it  is  desirable,  that  a  customary  way  should 
be  kept  open  for  removing  prejudices  as  they  may  arise 
against  these  institutions;  for  rectifying  any  misrepre- 
sentations which  may,  at  any  time,  be  made  of  them; 
and  informing  the  public  of  any  new  emergencies;  as 
well  as  for  repeatedly  enforcing  the  known  obligations  of 
charity,  and  the  excellency  of  this  particular  kind  of  it. 
Then  sermons,  you  know,  amongst  Protestants,  always 
of  course  accompany  these  more  solemn  appearances  in 
the  house  of  God:  nor  will  these  latter  be  kept  up 
without  the  other.  Now  public  devotions  should  evei 
attend  and  consecrate  public  charities.  And  it  would 
be  a  sad  presage  of  the  decay  of  these  charities,  if  ever 


258 


A  SERMON  PKEACHED  BEFORE  THE 


they  should  cease  to  be  professedly  carried  on  in  the 
fear  of  God,  and  upon  the  principles  of  religion.  It  may 
be  added,  that  real  charitable  persons  will  approve  ol 
these  frequent  exhortations  to  charity,  even  though  they 
should  be  conscious  that  they  do  not  themselves  stand 
in  need  of  them,  upon  account  of  such  as  do.  And  such 
can  possibly  have  no  right  to  complain  of  being  too  often 
admonished  of  their  duty,  till  they  are  ph  ased  to  practise 
it.  It  is  true  indeed,  we  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
a  spirit  of  beneficence  prevail,  in  a  very  commendable 
degree,  amongst  all  ranks  of  people,  and  in  a  very 
distinguished  manner  in  some  persons  amongst  the 
highest;  yet  it  is  evident,  too  many  of  all  ranks  are  very 
deficient  in  it,  who  are  of  great  ability,  and  of  whom 
much  might  be  expected.  Though  every  thing  therefore 
were  done  in  behalf  of  the  poor  which  is  wanted,  yet 
these  persons  ought  repeatedly  to  be  told,  how  highly 
blamable  they  are  for  letting  it  be  done  without  them ; 
and  done  by  persons,  of  whom  great  numbers  must  have 
much  less  ability  than  they. 

But  whoever  can  really  think,  that  the  necessities  of 
the  disabled  poor  are  sufficiently  provided  for  already, 
must  be  strangely  prejudiced.  If  one  were  to  send  you 
to  them  themselves  to  be  better  informed,  you  would 
readily  answer,  that  their  demands  would  be  very  extra- 
vagant; that  persons  are  not  to  be  their  own  judges  in 
claims  of  justice,  much  less  in  those  of  charity.  You 
then,  I  am  speaking  to  the  hard  people  above  mentioned, 
you  are  to  judge,  what  provision  is  to  be  made  for  the 
necessitous,  so  far  as  it  depends  upon  your  contributions. 
But  ought  you  not  to  remember  that  you  are  interested, 
that  you  are  parties  in  the  affair  as  well  as  they.  For  is 
not  the  giver  as  really  so  as  the  receiver?  And  as  there 
is  danger  that  the  receiver  will  err  one  way,  is  there  not 
danger  that  the  giver  may  err  the  other?  since  it  is  not 
matter  of  arbitrary  choice,  which  has  no  rule,  but  matter 
of  real  equity,  to  be  considered  as  in  the  presence  of 
God,  what  provision  shall  be  made  for  the  poor  ?  And 
therefore,  though  you  are  yourselves  the  only  judges, 
what  you  will  do  in  their  behalf,  for  the  case  admits  no 
other;  yet  let  me  tell  you,  you  will  not  be  i'- partial. 


GOVERNORS  OF  Til  L"  LONDON  INFIRMARY 


259 


you  will  not  be  equitable  judges,  until  you  have  guarded 
against  the  influence  which  interest  is  apt  to  have  upon 
your  judgment,  and  cultivated  within  you  the  spirit  of 
charity  to  balance  it.  Then  you  will  see  the  various 
remaining  necessities  which  call  for  relief.  But  that 
there  are  many  such  must  be  evident  at  first  sight  to  the 
most  careless  observer,  were  it  only  from  hence,  that 
both  this  and  the  other  hospitals  are  often  obliged  to 
reject  poor  objects  which  offer,  even  for  want  of  room, 
or  wards  to  contain  them. 

Notwithstanding  many  persons  have  need  of  these 
admonitions,  yet  there  is  a  good  spirit  of  beneficence,  as 
I  observed,  pretty  generally  prevailing.  And  I  must 
congratulate  you  upon  the  great  success  it  has  given  to 
the  particular  good  work  before  us;  great,  I  think, 
beyond  all  example  for  the  time  it  has  subsisted.  Nor 
would  it  be  unsuitable  to  the  present  occasion  to  recount 
the  particulars  of  this  success.  For  the  necessary 
accommodations  which  have  been  provided,  and  the 
numbers  who  have  been  relieved,  in  so  short  a  time, 
cannot  but  give  high  reputation  to  the  London  Infirmary. 
And  the  reputation  of  any  particular  charity,  like  credit 
in  trade,  is  so  much  real  advantage,  without  the  incon- 
veniences to  which  that  is  sometimes  liable.  It  will 
bring  in  contributions  for  its  support;  and  men  of 
character,  as  they  shall  be  wanted,  to  assist  in  the 
management  of  it;  men  of  skill  in  the  professions,  men 
of  conduct  in  business,  to  perpetuate,  improve,  and 
bring  it  to  perfection.  So  that  you,  the  contributors  to 
this  charity,  and  more  especially  those  of  you  by  whose 
immediate  care  and  economy  it  is  in  so  high  repute,  are 
encouraged  to  go  on  with  your  labour  of  love*  not  only 
by  the  present  good,  which  you  see  is  here  done,  but 
likewise  by  the  prospect  of  what  will  probably  be  done, 
by  your  means,  in  future  times,  when  this  infirmary  shall 
become,  as  I  hope  it  will,  no  less  renowned  than  the  city 
in  which  it  is  established. 

But  to  see  how  far  it  is  from  being  yet  complete,  for 
want  of  contributions,  one  need  only  look  upon  the 
settled  rules  of  the  house  for  admission  of  patients.  See 
there  the  limitations  which  necessity  prescribes,  as  to 

*  Heb.  vi.  10. 


260  A  SERMON  ."REACHED  BEFORE  THE 

the  persons  to  be  admitted.  Read  but  that  one  order, 
though  others  might  be  mentioned,  that  none  who  are 
judged  to  be  in  an  asthmatic,  consumptive,  or  dying  condition, 
be  admitted  on  any  account  whatsoever.  Harsh  as  these 
words  sound,  they  proceed  out  of  the  mouth  of  Charity 
herself.  Charity  pronounces  it  to  be  better,  that  poof 
creatures,  who  might  receive  much  ease  and  relief,  should 
be  denied  it,  if  their  case  does  not  admit  of  recovery, 
rather  than  that  others,  whose  case  does  admit  of  it,  be 
left  to  perish.  But  it  shocks  humanity  to  hear  such  an 
alternative  mentioned;  and  to  think,  that  there  should 
be  a  necessity,  as  there  is  at  present,  for  such  restrictions, 
in  one  of  the  most  beneficent  and  best  managed  schemes 
in  the  world.  May  more  numerous  or  larger  contribu- 
tions, at  length,  open  a  door  to  such  as  these;  that  what 
renders  their  case  in  the  highest  degree  compassionable, 
their  languishing  under  incurable  diseases,  may  no  longer 
exclude  them  from  the  house  of  mercy. 

But  besides  the  persons  to  whom  I  have  been  now 
more  particularly  speaking,  there  are  others,  who  do  not 
cast  about  for  excuses  for  not  contributing  to  the  relief 
of  the  necessitous ;  perhaps  are  rather  disposed  to  relieve 
them ;  who  yet  are  not  so  careful  as  they  ought  to  be, 
to  put  themselves  into  a  capacity  of  doing  it.  For  we 
are  as  really  accountable  for  not  doing  the  good  which 
we  might  have  in  our  power  to  do,  if  we  would  manage 
our  affairs  with  prudence,  as  we  are  for  not  doing  the 
good  which  is  in  our  power  now  at  present.  And  hence 
arise  the  obligations  of  economy  upon  people  in  the 
highest,  as  well  as  in  the  lower  stations  of  life,  in  order 
to  enable  themselves  to  do  that  good,  which,  without 
economy,  both  of  them  must  be  incapable  of;  even 
though  without  it  they  could  answer  the  strict  demands 
of  justice;  which  yet  we  find  neither  of  them  can.  A 
good  man  sheweth  favour,  and  lendeth;  and,  to  enable 
himself  to  do  so,  he  will  guide  his  affairs  with  discretion* 
For  want  of  this,  many  a  one  has  reduced  his  family  to 
the  necessity  of  asking  relief  from  those  public  charities, 
to  which  he  migh<  have  left  them  in  a  condition  of 
largely  contributing 

As  economy  is  the  duty  of  all  persons,  without  excep- 

*  Psalm  cxii.  5. 


GOVERNORS  OF  THE  LONDON  INFIRMARY.  261 


lion,  frugality  and  diligence  are  duties  which  particularly 
belong  to  the  middle  as  well  as  lower  ranks  of  men, 
and  more  particularly  still  to  persons  in  trade  and 
commerce,  whatever  their  fortunes  be.  For  trade  and 
commerce  cannot  otherwise  be  carried  on,  but  is  plainly 
inconsistent  with  idleness  and  profusion:  though  indeed 
were  it  only  from  regard  to  propriety,  and  to  avoid 
being  absurd,  every  one  should  conform  his  behaviour 
to  what  his  situation  in  life  requires,  without  which 
the  order  of  society  must  be  broken  in  upon.  .  And 
considering  how  inherited  riches  and  a  life  of  leisure 
are  often  employed,  the  generality  of  mankind  have 
cause  to  be  thankful  that  their  station  exempts  them 
from  so  great  temptations;  that  it  engages  them  in  a 
sober  care  of  their  expenses,  and  in  a  course  of  appli- 
cation to  business:  especially  as  these  virtues,  moreover, 
tend  to  give  them,  what  is  an  excellent  groundwork  for 
aJl  others,  a  stayed  equality  of  temper  and  command  oi 
thAr  passions.  But  when  a  man  is  diligent  and  frugal, 
in  order  to  have  it  in  his  power  to  do  good;  when  he  is 
more  industrious,  or  more  sparing  perhaps  than  his 
circumstances  necessarily  require,  that  he  may  have  to 
yive  to  him  that  needeth;*  when  he  labours  in  order  to 
support  t/ie  weak;*  such  care  of  his  affairs  is  itself  cha- 
rity, and  the  actual  beneficence  which  it  enables  him  to 
practise  is  additional  charity. 

You  will  easily  see  why  I  insist  thus  upon  these  things, 
because  I  would  particularly  recommend  the  good 
work  before  us  to  all  ranks  of  people  in  this  great  city. 
And  I  think  I  have  reason  to  do  so,  from  the  considera- 
tion, that  it  very  particularly  belongs  to  them  to  promote 
it.  The  gospel  indeed  teaches  us  to  look  upon  every 
one  in  distress  as  our  neighbour,  yet  neighbourhood  in 
the  literal  sense,  and  likewise  several  other  circum- 
stances, are  providential  recommendations  of  such  and 
such  charities,  and  excitements  to  them;  without  which 
the  necessitous  would  suffer  much  more  than  tin  y  do  at 
present.  For  our  general  disposition  to  beneficence  would 
not  be  sufficiently  directed,  and  in  other  respects  would 
be  very  ineffectual,  if  it  iver.  not  called  forth  into  action 


<•  Acts  k\  3.i. 


262 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE  THE 


by  some  or  other  of  those  providential  circumstances, 
which  form  particular  relations  between  the  rich  and  the 
poor,  and  are  of  course  regarded  by  every  one  in  some 
degree.  But  though  many  persons  among  you,  both  in 
the  way  of  contributions,  and  in  other  ways  no  less 
useful,  have  done  even  more  than  was  to  be  expected, 
yet  I  must  be  allowed  to  say,  that  I  do  not  think  the 
relation  the  inhabitants  of  this  city  bear  to  the  persons 
for  whom  our  infirmary  was  principally  designed,  is 
sufficiently  attended  to  by  the  generality ;  which  may  be 
owing  to  its  late  establishment.  It  is,  you  know,  de- 
signed principally  for  diseased  manufacturers,  seamen  in 
merchant- service,  and  their  wives  and  children :  and  poor 
manufacturers  comprehend  all  who  are  employed  in  any 
labour  whatever  belonging  to  trade  and  commerce.  The 
description  of  these  objects  shows  their  relation,  and  a 
very  near  one  it  is,  to  you,  my  neighbours,  the  inhabi- 
tants of  this  city.  If  any  of  your  domestic  servants  were 
disabled  by  sickness,  there  is  none  of  you  but  would 
think  himself  bound  to  do  somewhat  for  their  reliel 
Now  these  seamen  and  manufacturers  are  employed  in 
your  immediate  business.  They  are  servants  of  mer- 
chants, and  other  principal  traders;  as  much  your 
servants  as  if  they  lived  under  your  roof:  though  by 
their  not  doing  so,  the  relation  is  less  in  sight.  And 
supposing  they  do  not  all  depend  upon  traders  of  lower 
rank  in  exactly  the  same  manner,  yet  many  of  them  do ; 
and  they  have  all  connexions  with  you,  which  give  them 
a  claim  to  your  charity  preferably  to  strangers.  They 
are  indeed  servants  of  the  public;  and  so  are  all  indus- 
trious poor  people  as  well  as  they.  But  that  does  not 
hinder  the  latter  from  being  more  immediately  yours. 
And  as  their  being,  servants  to  the  public  is  a  general 
recommendation  of  this  charity  to  all  other  persons,  so 
their  being  more  immediately  yours,  is,  surely,  a  par- 
ticular recommendation  of  it  to  you.  Notwithstanding 
all  this,  I  will  not  take  upon  me  to  say,  that  every 
one  of  you  is  blamable  who  does  not  contribute  to 
your  infirmary,  for  y3urs  it  is  in  a  peculiar  sense; 
but  1  will  say,  that  those  of  you  who  do  are  highly 
commendable.    I  will  say  more,  that  you  promote  a 


GOVERNORS  OF  THE  LONDON  INFIRMARY.  2G3 

very  excellent  work,  which  your  particular  station  is  a 
providential  call  upon  you  to  promote.  And  there" can 
be  no  stronger  reason  than  this  for  doing  any  thing, 
except  the  one  reason,  that  it  would  be  criminal  to 
omit  it. 

These  considerations,  methinks,  might  induce  every 
trader  of  higher  rank  in  this  city  to  become  a  subscriber 
to  the  infirmary  which  is  named  from  it;  and  others  of 
you  to  contribute  somewhat  yearly  to  it,  in  the  way  in 
which  smaller  contributions  are  given.  This  would  be 
a  most  proper  offering  out  of  your  increase  to  him, 
whose  blessing  maketh  rich*  Let  it  be  more  or  less, 
every  man  according  as  he  purposeth  in  Ms  heart;  not 
grudgingly,  or  of  necessity :  for  God  loveth  a  cheerful  giver. ,t 

The  large  benefactions  of  some  persons  of  ability  may 
be  necessary  in  the  first  establishment  of  a  public 
charity,  and  are  greatly  useful  afterwards  in  maintaining 
it:  but  the  expenses  of  this  before  us,  in  the  extent  and 
degree  of  perfection  to  which  one  would  hope  it  might 
be  brought,  cannot  be  effectually  supported,  any  more 
than  the  expenses  of  civil  government,  without  the 
contribution  of  great  numbers.  You  have  already  the 
assistance  of  persons  of  highest  rank  and  fortune,  of 
which  the  list  of  our  governors,  and  the  present  appear- 
ance, are  illustrious  examples.  And  their  assistance 
would  be  far  from  lessening  by  a  general  contribution  to 
it  amongst  yourselves.  On  the  contrary,  the  general 
contribution  to  it  amongst  yourselves,  which  I  have  been 
proposing,  would  give  it  still  higher  repute,  and  more 
invite  such  persons  to  continue  their  assistance,  and 
accept  the  honour  of  being  in  its  direction.  For  the 
greatest  persons  receive  honour  from  taking  the  direction 
of  a  good  work,  as  they  likewise  give  honour  to  it.  And 
by  these  concurrent  endeavours,  our  infirmary  might  at 
length  be  brought  to  answer,  in  some  competent  mea- 
sure, to  the  occasions  of  our  city. 

Blessed  are  they  who  employ  their  riches  in  promoting 
so  excellent  a  design.  The  temporal  advantages  ot 
them  are  far  from  coming  up,  in  enjoyment,  to  what 
they  promise  at  a  distance.     But  the  distinguished 

*  Prov.  x.  22.  f  2  Cor.  ir.  7. 


264 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  BEFORE  THE 


privilege,  the  prerogative  of  riches,  is,  that  they  increas* 
our  power  of  doing  good.  This  is  their  proper  use.  In 
proportion  as  men  make  this  use  of  them,  they  imitate 
Almighty  God;  and  co-operate  together  with  him  in 
promoting  the  happiness  of  the  world;  and  may  expecl 
the  most  favourable  judgment,  which  their  case  will 
admit  of,  at  the  last  day,  upon  the  general,  repeated 
maxim  of  the  gospel,  that  we  shall  then  be  treated 
ourselves  as  we  now  treat  others.  They  have  moreover 
the  prayers  of  all  good  men,  those  of  them  particularly 
whom  they  have  befriended;  and,  by  such  exercise  of 
charity,  they  improve  within  themselves  the  temper  of 
it,  which  is  the  very  temper  of  heaven.  Consider  next 
the  peculiar  force  with  which  this  branch  of  charity, 
almsgiving,  is  recommended  to  us  in  these  words;  He 
that  hath  pity  upon  the  poor  lendeth  unto  the  Lord:*  and 
in  these  of  our  Saviour,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Inasmuch 
as  ye  have  done  it,  relieved  the  sick  and  needy,  unto  one 
of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me  A 
Beware  you  do  not  explain  away  these  passages  of 
Scripture,  under  the  notion,  that  they  have  been  made 
to  serve  superstitious  purposes:  but  ponder  them  fairly 
in  your  heart ;  and  you  will  feel  them  to  be  of  irresistible 
weight.  Lastly,  let  us  remember,  in  how  many  instances 
we  have  all  left  undone  those  things  which  we  ought  to 
have  done,  and  done  those  things  which  we  ought  not 
to  have  done.  Now  whoever  has  a  serious  sense  of  this 
will  most  earnestly  desire  to  supply  the  good,  which  he 
was  obliged  to  have  done,  but  has  not,  and  undo  the 
evil  which  he  has  done,  or  neglected  to  prevent;  and 
when  that  is  impracticable,  to  make  amends,  in  some 
other  way,  for  his  offences — I  can  mean  only  to  our 
fellow  creatures.  To  make  amends,  in  some  way  or 
other,  to  a  particular  person,  against  whom  we  have 
offended,  either  by  positive  injury,  or  by  neglect;  is  an 
express  condition  of  our  obtaining  forgiveness  of  God, 
when  it  is  in  our  power  to  make  it.  And  when  it  is  not, 
surely  the  next  best  thing  is  to  make  amends  to  society 
by  fervent  charity,  in  a  course  of  doing  good :  which 
riches,  as  I  observed,  put  very  much  within  our  power. 

*  Pror.  xix.  17.  t  Matt.  xxr.  40. 


G  >VERNORS  OF  THE  LONDON  INFIRMARY.  265 

How  unhappy  a  choice  then  do  those  rich  men  make, 
who  sacrifice  all  these  high  prerogatives  of  their  state, 
to  the  wretched  purposes  of  dissoluteness  and  vanity,  or 
to  the  sordid  itch  of  heaping  up,  to  no  purpose  at  all; 
whilst  in  the  mean  time  they  stand  charged  with  the 
important  trust,  in  which  they  are  thus  unfaithful,  and 
%{  which  a  strict  account  remains  to  be  given! 


A 

CHARGE 

DELIVERED  TO 

THE  CLERGY 

AT  THE 

PRIMARY  VISITATION  OF  THE  DIOCESS  OF  DURHAM, 

IN  THE  YEAR  MDCCLI.* 


It  is  impossible  for  me,  my  brethren,  upon  our  first 
meeting  of  this  kind,  to  forbear  lamenting  with  you  the 
general  decay  of  religion  in  this  nation;  which  is  now 
observed  by  every  one,  and  has  been  for  some  time  the 
complaint  of  all  serious  persons.  The  influence  of  it  is 
more  and  more  wearing  out  of  the  minds  of  men,  even 
of  those  who  do  not  pretend  to  enter  into  speculations 
upon  the  subject:  but  the  number  of  those  who  do,  and 
who  profess  themselves  unbelievers,  increases,  and  with 
their  numbers  their  zeal.  Zeal,  it  is  natural  to  ask— for 
what?  Why  truly  for  nothing,  but  against  every  thins; 
that  is  good  and  sacred  amongst  us. 

Indeed,  whatever  efforts  are  made  against  our  religion, 
no  Christian  can  possibly  despair  of  it.  For  he,  who 
has  all  power  in  heaven  and  earth,  has  promised,  that  he 
will  be  with  us  to  the  end  of  the  world.  Nor  can  the 
present  decline  of  it  be  any  stumbling-block  to  such  as  are 
considerate;  since  he  himself  has  so  strongly  expressed 
what  is  as  remarkably  predicted  in  other  passages  of 
Scripture,  the  great  defection  from  his  religion  whicli 
should  be  in  the  latter  days,  by  that  prophetic  question, 
When  the  Son  of  man  cometh,  shall  he  find  faith  upon  the 

*  The  publication  of  Bishop  Butler's  Charge,  in  the  year  1751,  was  followed  by  a 
pamphlet,  printed  in  1752,  entitled,  "  A  Serious  Inquiry  inU)  the  Use  and  Importance 
of  External  Religion,  occasioned  by  some  passages  in  the  Right  Reverend  the  Lor.) 
Bishop  of  Durham's  Charge  to  the  Cler>y  of  that  Diocess,  &c,  humbly  addressed  to 
his  Lord<hi|i.''  This  pampi  let  has  been  reprinted  in  a  miscellaneous  work  :  such  pftrt 
of  it  as  seemed  most  worthy  of  observation,  the  reader  will  find  in  the  following  stole 
Bpon  those  passages  of  the  Charge  to  winch  tl.e  pamphlet  refers. 


CHARGE  TO  THE  CLERGY  OF  DURHAM. 


267 


earth?  How  near  this  time  is,  God  only  knows;  but 
this  kind  of  Scripture  signs  of  it  is  too  apparent.  For 
as  different  ages  have  been  distinguished  by  different 
sorts  of  particular  errors  and  vices,  the  deplorable  dis- 
tinction of  ours  is  an  avowed  scorn  of  religion  in  some, 
and  a  growing  disregard  to  it  in  the  generality. 

As  to  the  professed  enemies  of  religion,  I  know  not 
how  often  they  may  come  in  your  way;  but  often  enough, 
I  fear,  in  the  way  of  some  at  least  amongst  you,  to 
require  consideration,  what  is  the  proper  behaviour 
towards  them.  One  would,  to  be  sure,  avoid  great 
familiarities  with  these  persons;  especially  if  they  affect 
to  be  licentious  and  profane  in  their  common  talk.  Yet 
if  you  fall  into  their  company,  treat  them  with  the  regards 
which  belong  to  their  rank;  for  so  we  must  people  who 
are  vicious  in  any  other  respect.  We  should  study  what 
St  James,  with  wonderful  elegance  and  expressiveness, 
calls  meekness  of  wisdom,  in  our  behaviour  towards  all 
men;  but  more  especially  towards  these  men;  not  so 
much  as  being  what  we  owe  to  them,  but  to  ourselves 
and  our  religion ;  that  we  may  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God 
our  Saviour,  in  our  carriage  towards  those  who  labour  to 
vilify  it. 

For  discourse  with  them;  the  caution  commonly  given, 
not  to  attempt  answering  objections  which  we  have  not 
considered,  is  certainly  just.  Nor  need  any  one  in  a 
particular  case  be  ashamed  frankly  to  acknowledge  his 
ignorance,  provided  it  be  not  general.  And  though  it 
were,  to  talk  of  what  he  is  not  acquainted  with,  is  a 
dangerous  method  of  endeavouring  to  conceal  it.  But  a 
considerate  person,  however  qualified  he  be  to  defend 
his  religion,  and  answer  the  objections  he  hears  made 
against  it,  may  sometimes  see  cause  to  decline  that  office. 
Sceptical  and  profane  men  are  extremely  apt  to  bring  up 
this  subject  at  meetings  of  entertainment,  and  such  as 
are  of  the  freer  sort:  innocent  ones  I  mean,  otherwise  I 
should  not  suppose  you  would  be  present  at  them.  Now 
religion  is  by  far  too  serious  a  matter  to  be  the  hackney 
subject  upon  these  occasions.  And  by  preventing  its 
being  made  so,  you  will  better  secure  the  reverence 
which  is  due  to  it,  than  by  entering  into  its  defence 


268 


CHARGE  TO  THE 


Every  one  observes,  that  men's  having  examples  of 
vice  often  before  their  eyes,  familiarizes  it  to  the  mind, 
and  has  a  tendency  to  take  off  that  just  abhorrence  of 
it  which  the  innocent  at  first  felt,  even  though  it  should 
not  alter  their  judgment  of  vice,  or  make  them  really 
believe  it  to  be  less  evil  or  dangerous.  In  like  manner, 
the  hearing  religion  often  disputed  about  in  light  familiar 
conversation,  has  a  tendency  to  lessen  that  sacred  regard 
to  it,  which  a  good  man  would  endeavour  always  to 
keep  up,  both  in  himself  and  others.  But  this  is  not  all: 
people  are  too  apt  inconsiderately  to  take  for  granted, 
that  things  are  really  questionable,  because  they  hear 
them  often  disputed.  This  indeed  is  so  far  from  being 
a  consequence,  that  we  know  demonstrated  truths  have 
been  disputed,  and  even  matters  of  fact,  the  objects  of 
our  senses.  But  were  it  a  consequence,  were  the 
evidence  of  religion  no  more  than  doubtful,  then  it 
ought  not  to  be  concluded  false  any  more  than  true,  nor 
denied  any  more  than  affirmed;  for  suspense  would  be 
the  reasonable  state  of  mind  with  regard  to  it.  And 
then  it  ought  in  all  reason,  considering  its  infinite 
importance,  to  have  nearly  the  same  influence  upon 
practice,  as  if  it  were  thoroughly  believed.  For  would 
it  not  be  madness  for  a  man  to  forsake  a  safe  road,  and 
prefer  to  it  one  in  which  he  acknowledges  there  is  an 
even  chance  he  should  lose  his  life,  though  there  were 
an  even  chance  likewise  of  his  getting  safe  through  it  ? 
Yet  there  are  people  absurd  enough,  to  take  the  supposed 
doubtfulness  of  religion  for  the  same  thing  as  a  proof  or 
its  falsehood,  after  they  have  concluded  it  doubtful  from 
hearing  it  often  called  in  question.  This  shows  how 
infinitely  unreasonable  sceptical  men  are,  with  regard  to 
religion,  and  that  they  really  lay  aside  their  reason  upon 
this  subject  as  much  as  the  most  extravagant  enthusiasts. 
But  further,  cavilling  and  objecting  upon  any  subject  is 
much  easier  than  clearing  up  difficulties:  and  this  last 
part  will  always  be  put  upon  the  defenders  of  religion. 
Now  a  man  may  be  fully  convinced  of  the  truth  of  a 
matter,  and  upon  the  strongest  reasons,  and  yet  not  be 
Able  to  answer  all  the  difficulties  which  may  be  raised 
upon  it. 


CLERGY  OF  DURHAM. 


Then  again,  the  general  evidence  of  religion  is  com- 
plex and  various.  It  consists  of  a  long  series  of  things, 
one  preparatory  to  and  confirming  another,  from  the 
very  beginning  of  the  world  to  the  present  time.  And 
i;  is  easy  to  see  how  impossible  it  must  be,  in  a  cursory 
conversation,  to  unite  all  this  into  one  argument,  and 
represent  it  as  it  ought;  and,  could  it  be  done,  how 
utterly  indisposed  people  would  be  to  attend  to  it  —I 
say  in  a  cursory  conversation:  whereas  unconnected 
objections  are  thrown  out  in  a  few  words,  and  are  easily 
apprehended,  without  more  attention  than  is  usual  in 
common  talk.  So  that,  notwithstanding  we  have  the 
best  cause  in  the  world,  and  though  a  man  were  very 
capable  of  defending  it,  yet  I  know  not  why  he  should 
be  forward  to  undertake  it  upon  so  great  a  disadvantage, 
and  to  so  little  good  effect,  as  it  must  be  done  amidst 
the  gaiety  and  carelessness  of  common  conversation. 

But  then  it  will  be  necessary  to  be  very  particularly 
upon  your  guard,  that  you  may  not  seem,  by  way  of 
compliance,  to  join  in  with  any  levity  of  discourse 
respecting  religion.  Nor  would  one  let  any  pretended 
argument  against  it  pass  entirely  without  notice;  nor  any 
gross  ribaldry  upon  it,  without  expressing  our  thorough 
disapprobation.  This  last  may  sometimes  be  done  by 
silence:  for  silence  sometimes  is  very  expressive;  as 
was  that  of  our  blessed  Saviour  before  the  Sanhedrim 
and  before  Pilate.  Or  it  may  be  done  by  observing 
mildly,  that  religion  deserves  another  sort  of  treatment, 
or  a  more  thorough  consideration,  than  such  a  time,  or 
such  circumstances  admit.  However,  as  it  is  absolutely 
necessary,  that  we  take  care,  by  diligent  reading  and 
study,  to  be  always  prepared,  to  be  ready  always  to  give 
an  answer  to  every  man  that  asketh  a  reason  of  the  hope 
that  is  in  us;  so  there  may  be  occasions  when  it  will 
highly  become  us  to  do  it.  And  then  we  must  take 
care  to  do  it  in  the  spirit  which  the  apostle  requires, 
with  meekness  and  fear:*  meekness  towards  those  who 
give  occasions  for  entering  into  the  defence  of  our 
religion ;  and  with  fear,  not  of  them,  but  of  God ;  with 
that  reverential  fears  which  the  nature  of  religion  requirM, 

•  l  Pat.  01.1*, 


270 


CHARGE  "IO  THE 


and  which  i;  so  far  from  being  inconsistent  with,  that  it 
will  inspire  proper  courage  towards  men.  Now  this 
reverential  fear  will  lead  us  to  insist  strongly  upon  the 
infinite  greatness  of  God's  scheme  of  government,  both 
in  extent  and  duration,  together  with  the  wise  connexion 
of  its  parts,  and  the  impossibility  of  accounting  fully  for 
the  several  parts,  without  seeing  the  whole  plan  of 
Providence  to  which  they  relate;  which  is  beyond  the 
utmost  stretch  of  our  understanding.  And  to  all  this 
must  be  added  the  necessary  deficiency  of  human 
language,  when  things  divine  are  the  subject  of  it.  These 
observations  are  a  proper  full  answer  to  manv  objections, 
and  very  material  with  regard  to  all. 

But  your  standing  business,  and  which  requires  con- 
stant attention,  is  with  the  body  of  the  people;  to  revive 
in  them  the  spirit  of  religion,  which  is  so  much  declining. 
And  it  may  seem,  that  whatever  reason  there  be  for 
caution  as  to  entering  into  an  argumentative  defence  of 
•eligion  in  common  conversation,  yet  that  it  is  necessary  to 
lo  this  from  the  pulpit,  in  order  to  guard  the  people 
against  being  corrupted,  however  in  some  places.  But 
then  surely  it  should  be  done  in  a  manner  as  little 
controversial  as  possible.  For  though  such  as  are  capable 
cf  seeing  the  force  of  objections  are  capable  also  of 
seeing  the  force  of  the  answers  which  are  given  to  them ; 
yet  the  truth  is,  the  people  will  not  competently  attend  to 
either.  But  it  is  easy  to  see  which  they  will  attend  to 
most.  And  to  hear  religion  treated  of  as  what  manv 
deny,  and  which  has  much  said  against  it  as  well  as  for 
it ;  this  cannot  but  have  a  tendency  to  give  them  ill 
impressions  at  any  time ;  and  seems  particularly  improper 
for  all  persons  at  a  time  of  devotion ;  even  for  such  as 
are  arrived  at  the  most  settled  state  of  piety:  I  say  at  a 
time  of  devotion,  wnen  we  are  assembled  to  yield  our- 
selves up  to  the  full  influence  of  the  Divine  Presence, 
and  to  call  forth  into  actual  exercise  every  pious  affection 
of  heart.  For  it  is  to  be  repeated,  that  the  heart  and 
course  of  affections  may  be  disturbed  when  there  is  no 
alteration  of  judgment.  Now  the  evidence  of  religion  may 
be  laid  before  men  without  any  air  of  controversy.  The 
proof  of  the  being  of  God,  from  final  causes,  or  the  design 


CLERGY  OF  DURHAM. 


271 


and  wisdom  which  appears  in  every  part  of  nature  ;  to- 
gether with  the  law  of  virtue  written  upon  our  hearts:*  the 
proof  of  Christianity  from  miracles,  and  the  accomplish- 
ment of  prophecies;  and  the  confirmation  which  the 
natural  and  civil  history  of  the  world  give  to  the  Scripture 
account  of  things:  these  evidences  of  religion  might 
properly  be  insisted  on,  in  a  way  to  affect  and  influence 
the  heart,  though  there  were  no  professed  unbelievers 
in  the  world;  and  therefore  may  be  insisted  on,  without 
taking  much  notice  that  there  are  such.  And  even  their 

*  The  author  of  the  Inquiry,  mentioned  above,  informs  us,  in  his  postscript,  that 
"  the  certain  consequence  of  referring  mankind  to  a  law  of  nature,  or  virtue,  written 
upon  their  hearts,  is  their  having  recourse  to  their  own  sense  of  things  on  all  occasions ; 
which  being,  in  a  great  majority,  no  better  than  family  superstition,  party-prejudice, 
or  self-interested  artifice  (pertiaps  a  compound  of  all),  will  be  too  apt  to  overrule  the 
plain  precepts  of  the  gospel."  And  he  declares,  he  has  "no  better  opinion  of  the 
clearness,  certainty,  uniformity,  universality,  &c,  of  this  law,  than"  he  has  "  of  the 
importance  of  external  religion."  What  then  must  we  say  to  St  Paul,  who  not  only 
asserts,  in  the  strongest  terms,  the  reality  of  such  a  law,  hut  speaks  of  its  obligation 
;is  extending  to  all  mankind  ?  blaming  some  among  the  Gentiles  as  without  excuse,  for 
not  advening  to  and  obeying  it;  and  commending  others  for  doing  by  nature  (in  con- 
tradistinction to  revelation)  the  things  contained  in  the  law,  thus  showing  the  work  of 
the  taw  written  in  their  hearts.  If,  because  "  natural  religion  is  liable  to  be  mistaken, 
ii  is  high  time  to  have  done  with  it  in  the  pulpit ;"  how  comes  it  that  the  same  apostle 
refers  the  Philippians  to  the  study  of  this  religion, to  whatsoever  things  are  true,  honest, 
lust,  lonely,  and  of  good  report  ?  And  yet,  without  such  a  study,  our  knowledge  of 
me  moral  law  must  always  remain  imperfect ;  for  a  complete  system  of  morality  is 
certainly  no  where  to  be  found  either  in  the  Old  or  New  Testament.  +  When  a 
Christian  minister  is  enforcing  the  duties  or  doctrines  of  revealed  religion,  he  may 
perhaps  do  well  to  "tell  his  people  he  has  no  other  proof  of  the  original,  truth,  obli 
gations,  present  benefits  and  future  rewards  of  religion,  to  lay  before  them,  than  what 
is  contained  in  the  Scriptures."  But  what  if  his  purpose  be  to  inculcate  some  moral 
virtue?  Will  it  not  be  useful  here,  besides  observing  that  the  practice  of  that  virtue 
is  enjoined  by  a  divine  command,  to  recommend  it  still  further  to  his  hearers,  by 
showing  that  it  approves  itself  to  our  inward  sense  and  perception,  and  accords  with 
l he  native  sentiments  and  sugge  stions  of  our  minds?  Metaphysicians  may  say  what 
lin  y  will  of  our  feelings  of  this  sort  being  all  illusive,  liable  to  he  perverted  by 
education  and  habit,  and  judged  >7>"  \>j  mrna  own  sense  of  things;  they,  whose 
understandings  are  yet  unspoiled  by  philosophy  and  vain  deceit,  will  be  little  disposed  to 
Listen  10  such  assertions.  Nor  are  there  wanting  arguments  which  prove,  and,  as 
should  seem,  to  the  satisfaction  of  every  reasonable  inquirer,  that  the  great  anil  leading 
principles  of  moral  duties  have  in  all  ages  been  the  same  ;  that  such  virtues  as  bene- 
volence, justice,  compassion,  gratitude,  accidental  obstacles  removed,  and  when  the 
precise  meaning  of  the  words  has  been  once  explained,  are  instinctively  known  and 
approved  by  al!  men  ;  and  that  our  approbation  of  these  is  as  much  a  part  of  our 
nature  implanted  in  us  by  God,  and  as  little  liable  to  caprice  and  fashion,  as  the  sense 
of  seeing,  given  us  also  by  him,  by  which  all  bodies  appear  to  us  in  an  erect,  and  not 
an  inverted  position.^  Mr  Locke's  authority  has  been  generally  looked  up  i%  as 
decisive  on  such  questions;  and  his  sentiments  have  been  embraced  implicitly,  and 
without  examination.  That  great  and  good  man,  however,  is  not  to  be  charged  with 
.  he  pernicious  consequences  which  others  have  drawn  from  his  opinions  :  consequences 
which  nave  been  carried  to  such  a  length,  as  to  destroy  all  moral  difference  of  human 
("•'.ions  j  making  virtue  and  vice  altogether  arbitrary;  calling  evil  good,  and  good 
rril ;  putting  darkness  fir  light,  and  light  for  darkness  ;  putting  bitter  for  sweet,  and 
.  wtet  for  bitter. 

■  r>«!  ,he  second  of  Dr  BaU{uy'»  Charges.      t  3ee  the  third  of  Dishop  Hurd'a  Sermons,  vol.  L 


272  CHARGE  TO  THE 

particular  objections  may  be  obviated  without  a  formal 
mention  of  them.  Besides,  as  to  religion  in  general,  it 
is  a  practical  thing,  and  no  otherwise  a  matter  of  specu- 
lation, than  common  prudence  in  the  management  of 
our  worldly  affairs  is  so.  And  if  one  were  endeavouring 
to  bring  a  plain  man  to  b*3  more  careful  with  regard  to 
this  last,  it  would  be  thought  a  strange  method  of  doing 
it,  to  perplex  him  with  stating  formally  the  several 
objections  which  men  of  gaiety  or  speculation  have 
made  against  prudence,  and  the  advantages  which  they 
pleasantly  tell  us  folly  has  over  it;  though  one  could 
answer  those  objections  ever  so  fully. 

Nor  does  the  want  of  religion  in  the  generality  of  the 
common  people  appear  owing  to  a  speculative  disbelief 
or  denial  of  it,  but  chiefly  to  thoughtlessness  and  the 
common  temptations  of  life.  Your  chief  business  there- 
fore is  to  endeavour  to  beget  a  practical  sense  of  it  upon 
their  hearts,  as  what  they  acknowledge  their  belief  of, 
and  profess  they  ought  to  conform  themselves  to.  And 
this  is  to  be  done  by  keeping  up,  as  we  are  able,  the 
form  and  face  of  religion  with  decency  and  reverence, 
and  in  such  a  degree  as  to  bring  the  thoughts  of  religion 
often  to  their  minds;*  and  then  endeavouring  to  make 
this  form  more  and  more  subservient  to  promote  the 
reality  and  power  of  it.  The  form  of  religion  may 
indeed  be  where  there  is  little  of  the  thing  itself;  but 
the  thing  itself  cannot  be  preserved  amongst  mankind 
without  the  form.t    And  this  form  frequently  occurring 

•  To  this  it  is  said  by  our  inquirer,  that  "  the  clergy  of  the  church  of  Englai  d 
have  no  way  of  keeping  up  the  form  and  face  of  religion,  any  o/tener,  or  in  any  other 
degree,  than  is  directed  by  the  prescribed  order  of  the  church."  As  if  the  whole  duty 
of  a  parish  priest  consisted  in  reading  prayers  and  a  sermon  on  Sundays,  and  performing 
the  occasional  offices  appointed  in  the  liturgy  !  One  would  think  the  writer  who  made 
this  objection  had  never  read  more  of  the  Charge  than  the  four  pages  he  has  parii- 
cularly  selected  for  the  subject  of  his  animadversions.  Had  he  looked  further, 
he  would  have  found  other  methods  recommended  to  the  clergy,  of  introducing  a 
sense  of  religion  into  the  minds  of  their  parishioners  which  occur  much  oftener  than 
the  times  allotted  for  the  public  services  of  the  church :  such  as  family  prayers ; 
acknowledging  the  divine  bounty  at  our  meals:  personal  applications  from  ministers 
of  parishes  to  individuals  under  their  care,  on  particular  occasions  and  circumstances  : 
as  at  the  time  of  confirmation,  at  first  receiving  the  holy  communion,  on  recovery 
from  sickness,  and  the  like;  none  of  which  are  prescribed  in  our  established  ritual, 
any  more  than  those  others  so  ludicrou^y  mentioned  by  this  writer,  "  bowing  to  the 
east,  turning  the  face  to  that  quarter  in  repeating  the  creeds,  dipping  the  finger  in 
water,  and  therewith  crossing  the  child's  forehead  in  baptism." 

f  The  quakers  reject  all  forms,  even  the  two  of  Christ's  own  institution :  will  it 
be  said,  that  "  these  men  have  no  religion  preserved  among  them?"    It  will  neither 


CLERGY  OF  DURHAM. 


273 


in  some  instance  or  other  of  it  will  be  a  frequent  admo- 
nition to  bad  men  to  repent,  and  to  good  men  to  grow 
better;  and  also  be  the  means  of  their  doing  so.* 

That  which  men  have  accounted  religion  in  (he  several 
countries  of  the  world,  generally  speaking,  has  had  a 
<;reat  and  conspicuous  part  in  all  public  appearances, 
and  the  face  of  it  been  kept  up  with  great  reverence 
throughout  all  ranks,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest ; 
not  only  upon  occasional  solemnities,  but  also  in  the  daily 
course  of  behaviour.  In  the  heathen  world,  their 
superstition  was  the  chief  subject  of  statuary,  sculpture, 
painting,  and  poetry.  It  mixed  itself  with  business,  civil 
forms,  diversions,  domestic  entertainments,  and  everv 
part  of  common  life.  The  Mahometans  are  obliged  to 
short  devotions  five  times  between  morning  and  evening. 
In  Roman  Catholic  countries,  people  cannot  ra?s  a  day 
without  having  religion  recalled  to  their  thoughts,  by 
some  or  other  memorial  of  it;  by  some  ceremony  or 
public  religious  form  occurring  in  their  way:t  besides 

be  s  iid  nor  insinuated.  The  quakers,  though  they  have  not  the  form,  are  careful  Ic 
keep  the  face  of  religion  ;  as  appears  not  only  from  the  custom  of  assembling 
themselves  for  the  purposes  of  puhlic  worship  on  the  Lord's  clay,  hut  from  their 
silent  meetings  on  other  days  of  the  week.  And  that  they  are  equally  sensible  of 
the  importance  of  maintaining  the  influence  of  religion  on  their  niimls,  is  manifest 
from  the  practice  of  what  they  call  inward  prayer,  in  conformity  to  the  direction  of 
Scriuttire  to  pray  continually  :  "which,"  saith  Robert  Barclay,  "cannot  be  under- 
wood of  outward  prayer,  because  it  were  impossible  that  men  should  be  always  upon 
their  knees,  expressing  the  words  of  prayer;  which  would  hinder  them  from  the 
PXi  rcise  of  those  duties  no  less  positively  commanded." — Apology  for  the  Quakers, 
I'rop  xi.  Of  Worship. 

*  Here  it  has  been  objected,  that  "  the  number,  variety,  and  frequent  occurrence  of 
forms  in  religion,  are  too  apt  to  he  considered  by  the  generality  as  commutations  for 
their  vices,  as  something  substituted  in  lieu  of  repentance,  as  loads  and  encumbrane  s- 
upon  true  Christian  edification."  This  way  of  arguing  against  the  use  of  a  thiny 
from  the  abuse  of  it,  instead  of  arguing  from  the  n  iture  of  the  thing  itself,  is  the 
master  sophism  that  pervades  the  whole  performance  we  are  here  examining.  What 
reasonable  man  ever  denied,  that  the  pomp  of  outward  worship  has  been  soini  times 
mistaken  for  inward  piety?  that  positive  institutions,  when  rested  in  as  ends,  instead 
of  bring  applied  as  means,  are  hurtful  to  the  'nterests  ol  true  religion  ?  Not  Bishop 
Butler  ceriainly,  who  blames  the  observances  of  the  papists  on  this  account,  some  of 
t  em  as  being  "in  themselves  wrong  and  superstitious;''  and  others,  as  being 
"  made  subservient  to  the  purposes  of  superstition,  ' and  for  this  reason  "abolished 
by  our  reformers."  In  the  mean  while,  it  will  still  be  true,  that  bodily  worship  is 
by  no  means  to  be  discarded,  as  unuseful  in  exciting  spiritual  devotion  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, mat  they  mutually  assist  and  strengthen  each  other  ;  and  that  a  mere  mental 
intercourse  with  God,  and  a  religious  service  purely  intellectual,  is  altogether 
insuitabie  to  such  a  creature  as  man,  during  his  present  state  on  earth. 

f  "  What  in  the  former  period  "  (when  speaking  of  the  heathen  world)  "  was  calle  ! 
tuperstitinn,  becomes  in  this"  (when  speaking  of  Roman  Catholics)  ''religion,  and 
religions  forms ;  which  the  papists  pretending  to  coi.nect  with  Christianity,  and  the 
Charge  giving  no  hint  that  this  is  no  more  than  a  pretence,  a  plain  reader  must  needs- 
take  tlua  as  spoken  of  the  means  and  memorials  of  true  religion,  and  will  accordingly 

8 


274 


CHARGE  TO  THE 


their  frequent  holydays,  the  short  prayers  they  are  daily 
called  to,  and  the  occasional  devotion  enjoined  by  con- 
fessors. By  these  means  their  superstition  sinks  deep 
into  the  minds  of  the  people,  and  their  religion  also  into 
the  minds  of  such  among  them  as  are  serious  and  well- 
disposed.  Our  reformers,  considering  that  some  o\ 
these  observances  were  in  themselves  wrong  and  super- 
stitious, and  others  of  them  made  subservient  to  the 
purposes  of  superstition,  abolished  them,  reduced  the 
form  of  religion  to  great  simplicity,  and  enjoined  no  more 
particular  rules,  nor  left  any  thing  more  of  what  was 
external  in  religion,  than  was  in  a  manner  necessary  to 
preserve  a  sense  of  religion  itself  upon  the  minds  of  the 
people.  But  a  great  part  of  this  is  neglected  by  the 
generality  amongst  us;  for  instance,  the  service  of  the 
church,  not  only  upon  common  days,  but  also  upon 
saints'  days;  and  several  other  things  might  be  men- 
tioned. Thus  they  have  no  customary  admonition,  no 
public  call  to  recollect  the  thoughts  of  God  and  religion 
from  one  Sunday  to  another. 

It  was  far  otherwise  under  the  law.  These  words* 
says  Moses  to  the  children  of  Israel,  which  I  command 
thee,  shall  be  in  thine  heart:  and  thou  shalt  teach  them 

■consider  these  as  recommended  to  his  practice  and  imitation."  If  a  plain  reader,  at 
first  view  of  the  passage  alluded  to,  should  inadvertently  tall  into  such  a  mistake,  he 
would  find  that  mistake  immediately  corrected  by  the  very  next  senteuce  that  follows, 
where  tlie  religion  of  the  Roman  Catholics,  and  their  superstition,  are  distinguished 
from  each  other  in  express  words  But  the  terms  in  question  are  used  with  the 
strictest  propriety.    The  design  of  the  bishop,  in  this  part  of  his  Charge,  is  to  consider 

ireligion,  not  under  the  notion  of  its  being  true,  but  as  it  affects  the  senses  and 
imaginations  of  the  multitude.  For  so  the  paragraph  begins:  "That  which  men 
have  accounted  religion  in  the  several  countries  of  the  world"  (whether  the  religion  be 
true  or  lalse  is  beside  his  present  argument),  "  gem-rally  speaking,  has  had  a  great  and 
conspicuous  part  in  all  public  appi  arunces."    This  position  he  illustrates  by  three 

■examples,  the  Heathen,  the  Mahometan,  and  the  Roman  Catholic  religions.    The  two 

I  first  of  these,  having  little  or  nothing  of  true  religion  belonging  to  them,  may  well  enough 
be  characterized  under  the  common  name  of  supers  ition:  the  last  contains  a  mixture 
of  both  ;  which  therefore  the  bishop,  like  a  good  writer,  as  well  as  a  just  reasoner, 
is  careful  to  distinguish.  In  Roman  Catholic  countries,  a  man  can  hardly  travel  a 
mile  without  passing  a  crucifix  erected  on  the  road  side:  he  may  either  stop  to 
worship  the  image  represented  on  the  cross,  or  he  may  simply  be  reminded  by  it  of 
his  own  relation  to  Christ  crucified;  thus  by  one  and  the  same  outward  sign, 
religion  may  be  recalled  to  his  thoughts,"  or  superstition  may  take  possession  of  his 
mind.  In  the  celebration  of  the  eucliarist,  the  elements  of  bread  and  wine  are 
regarded  by  a  papist  as  the  very  body  and  blood  of  ClirUt;  to  a  protestant,  they 
appearonly  as  symbols  and  memorials  of  that  body  and  blood:  what  in  one  is  an  act  of 
rational  devotion,  becomes  in  the  other  an  instance  of  the  grossest  superstition,  if  net 

'  idolatry. 

*  DeuU  vi.  6,  7. 


CLERGY  OF  DURHAM. 


275 


diligently  unto  thy  children,  and  shaft  talk  of  them  when 
thou  sittest  in  thine  house,  and  when  thou  walkest  by  the 
way,  and  when  thou  liest  down,  and  when  thou  risest  up  * 
And  as  they  were  commanded  this,  so  it  is  obvious  how 
much  the  constitution  of  that  law  was  adapted  to  effect 
it,  and  keep  religion  ever  in  view.  And  without  some- 
what of  this  nature,  piety  will  grow  languid  even  among 
the  better  sort  of  men;  and  the  worst  will  go  on  quietly 
n  an  abandoned  course,  with  fewer  interruptions  from 
within  than  they  would  have,  were  religious  reflections 
forced  oftener  upon  their  minds,f  and  consequently  with 

*  Allowing  that  "  what  Moses  in  this  passage  wanted  to  have  effected  was  obe- 
dience to  the  moral  law,"  nothing,  sure,  could  be  of  greater  use  in  securing  that 
obedience  than  the  practice  here  enjoined.  Our  inquirer,  however,  is  of  a  different 
opinion,  and  "  very  much  questions  whether  his  lordship  could  have  fallen  upon  any 
passage  in  the  Old  Testament,  which  relates  at  all  to  his  subject,  that  would  have 
been  less  favourable  to  his  argument."  fVho  shall  decide,  &c.  ? — The  bishop  goes 
on,  "  As  they  (the  Jews)  were  commanded  this,  so  it  is  obvious  how  much  the  con- 
stitution of  their  law  was  adapted  to  effect  it,  and  keep  religion  ever  in  view."  Upon 
which  the  inquirer  remarks,  "It  was  then  very  ill,  or  at  least  very  unwisely  done,  to 
nbrogate  that  law,  whose  consmution  was  adapted  to  so  excellent  a  purpose."  Let 
us  first  see  what  may  be  offered  in  defencs  of  the  bishop,  and  then  consider  what  is 
to  be  said  in  answer  to  his  opponent.  The  purpose  for  which  the  Mosaic  coiistitulio.i 
was  established  was  this  :  to  preserve,  amidst  a  world  universally  addicted  to  poly- 
theism and  idolatry,  the  great  doctrine  of  the  Unity  of  the  Divine  Nature,  till  the 
seed  should  come  to  whnm  the  promise  was  made.  As  a  means  to  this  end,  the 
Israelites  were  not  only  to  be  kept  separate  from  every  other  nation  ;  but,  the  bettei 
to  ensure  such  separation,  they  were  to  be  constantly  employed  in  a  multifarious 
ritual,  which  left  them  neither  time  nor  opportunity  for  deviating  into  the  supersti- 
tious observances  of  their  pagan  neighl>ours.  And  this,  I  suppose,  may  suffice  fur 
vindicating  the  bishop's  assertion,  that  "  the  constitution  of  the  Jewish  law  was 
olapted  to  keep  religion  ever  in  view."  But  the  Jewish  law  was  not  only  adapted 
wi  this  end  ;  we  are  next  to  observe,  that  the  end  itself  was  actually  gained.  For 
though  it  be  too  notorious  to  be  denied,  that  the  Jews  did  not  always  confine  (heir 
•eligious  homage  to  the  God  of  Israel,  but  polluted  the  service,  due  to  him  alone, 
willi  foreign  worship  ;  yet,  even  in  their  worst  defection,  it  should  be  remembered, 
they  never  totally  rejected  the  true  Jehovah  ;  and  after  their  return  from  captivity, 
they  were  so  thoroughly  cured  of  all  remaining  propensity  to  the  idolatrous  rites  of 
heathenism,  as  never  again  to  violate  their  allegiance  to  the  God  of  their  fathers. 
St  appears  then,  that,  in  consequence  of  the  Jewish  separation,  the  principle  of  lite 
Unity  was  in  fact  preserved  inviolate  among  that  people  till  the  coming  of  Christ. 
When  the  Mosaic  constitution  had  thus  attained  its  end,  and  mankind  were  now 
prepared  for  the  reception  of  a  belter  covenant,  the  law  expired  of  course  ;  the  parti 
lion  wall  that  had  divided  the  Jew  from  tiie  Gentile  was  taken  down,  and  all  distilic 
tion  between  them  lost,  under  the  common  name  of  Christians.  And  this  may  suffice 
to  show,  in  opposition  to  our  inquirer,  that  i.  was  both  very  well  and  very  wisely  done 
to  abrogate  a  law,  when  the  purpose  for  which  the  law  had  been  enacted  was 
accomplished. 

•f  "  According  to  the  bishop's  doctrine,"  then,  says  the  inquirer,  "  it  should  be  not 
only  good  policy,  but  wholesome  discipline,  to  force  men  in  England  to  come  to 
church,  and  in  France  to  go  to  mass."  And  again,  "  If  externals  have  this  virtue 
to  enforce  religious  reflections,  it  must  be  right  to  compel  those  who  are  indisposed  to 
such  reflections,  to  attend  these  memorials. "  Yes  ;  granting  that  the  sense  cf  the 
passage  in  the  Charge  is  not  shamefully  perverted,  and  that  we  are  to  understand  the 
bishop  here  to  speak  of  external  force  ami  compulsion.  Whereas,  by  "  religious 
reflections  forced'''  is  plainly  meant  no  ti  ure  than  religious  reflections  oftener  tkrwm 


27C 


CHARGE  IO  THE 


less  probability  of  their  amendment.  Indeed  in  most 
ages  of  the  church,  the  care  of  reasonable  men  has  been, 
as  there  has  been  for  the  most  part  occasion,  to  draw 
the  people  off  from  laying  too  great  weight  upon  external 
things;  upon  formal  acts  of  piety.  But  the  state  of 
matters  is  quite  changed  now  with  us:  These  things  are 
neglected  to  a  degree,  which  is,  and  cannot  but  be 
attended  with  a  decay  of  all  that  is  good.  It  is  highly 
seasonable  now  to  instruct  the  people  in  the  importance 
of  external  religion.* 

And  doubtless  under  this  head  must  come  into  con- 
sideration a  proper  regard  to  the  structures  which  are 
consecrated  to  the  service  of  God.  In  the  present  turn 
of  the  age,  one  may  observe  a  wonderful  frugality  in 
every  thing  which  has  respect  to  religion,  and  extrava- 
gance in  every  thing  else.  But  amidst  the  appearances 
of  opulence  and  improvement  in  all  common  things, 
which  are  now  seen  in  most  places^ it  would  be  hard  to 
find  a  reason  why  these  monuments  of  ancient  piety 
should  not  be  preserved  in  their  original  beauty  and 
magnificence.  But  in  the  least  opulent  places  they  must 
be  preserved  in  becoming  repair ;  and  every  thing 
relating  to  the  divine  service  be,  however,  decent  and 
clean  ;  otherwise  we  shall  vilify  the  face  of  religion 
whilst  we  keep  it  up.  All  this  is  indeed  principally  the 
duty  of  others.  Yours  is  to  press  strongly  upon  them 
what  is  their  duty  in  this  respect,  and  admonish  them  of 
it  often,  if  they  are  negligent. 

in  men  t  way,  brought  more  frequently  into  their  thovghti,  so  as  to  produce  an  habitual 
recollection  that  they  are  always  in  the  divine  presence. 

*  "  The  importance  of  external  religion,"  the  inquirer  remarks,  "  is  the  grand  eng  ine 
of  the  papists,  which  they  play  with  the  greatest  effect  upon  our  common  people,  who 
nre  *!way«  soonest  taken  and  ensnared  hy  form  and  slime ;  and,  so  far  as  we  concur 
witli  them  in  the  principle,  we  are  doing-  their  work  ;  since,  if  externals,  as  such,  are 
important,  the  plain  natural  consequence  is,  the  more  of  them  the  better.''  He  had  the 
same  reflection  once  before  :  "  If  true  religion  cannot  be  preserved  among-  men  with- 
out forms,  the  consequence  must  be,  that  the  llomish  religion,  having  more 

frequent  occurrences  of  forms,  is  better  than  other  religions  which  have  fewer  of 

these  occurrences."    To  this  argument  1  reply ,  Nego  consequentium.  There  may 

be  too  much  of  form  in  religion,  as  well  as  too  little  :  the  one  leads  to  enthusiasm 
the  other  degenerates  into  superstition  ;  one  is  puritanism,  the  other  popery;  whereas 
the  rational  worship  of  God  is  equally  removed  from  either  extreme.  Did  the  inquirer 
oever  hear  of  the  possibility  of  having  too  much  of  a  good  thing  ?  Or  does  he  sup- 
pose, with  the  late  historian  of  Gre;it  Britain,  that  all  religion  is  divided  into  two 
•pecies,  the  superstitious  and  the  fanatical  ;  and  that  whatever  is  i  i>t  one  of  these* 
Mat  of  necessity  be  the  other? 


Cf.ERGY  OF  DURHAM 


277 


But  then  you  must  be  sure  to  take  care  and  not  neglect 
that  part  of  the  sacred  fabric  which  belongs  to  you  to 
maintain  in  repair  and  decency.  Such  neglect  would  be 
great  impiety  in  you,  and  of  most  pernicious  example  to 
others.  Nor  could  you,  with  any  success,  or  any 
propriety,  urge  upon  them  their  duty  in  a  regard  in 
which  you  yourselves  should  be  openly  neglectful  of 
it. 

Bishop  Fleetwood  has  observed,*  that  unless  t/te  good 
public  spirit  of  building,  repairing,  and  adorning  churches 
prevails  a  great  deal  more  among  us,  and  be  more 
encouraged,  a  hundred  years  will  bring  to  the  ground  a 
huge  number  of  our  churches.  This  excellent  prelate 
made  this  observation  forty  years  ago :  and  no  one,  I 
believe,  will  imagine,  that  the  good  spirit  he  has  recom- 
mended prevails  more  at  present  than  it  did  then. 

But  if  these  appendages  of  the  divine  service  are  to  be 
regarded,  doubtless  the  divine  service  itself  is  more  to  be 
regarded ;  and  the  conscientious  attendance  upon  it 
ought  often  to  be  inculcated  upon  the  people,  as  a  plain 
precept  of  the  gospel,  as  the  means  of  grace,  and  what 
has  peculiar  promises  annexed  to  it.  But  external  acts 
of  piety  and  devotion,  and  the  frequent  returns  of  them, 
are,  moreover,  necessary  to  keep  up  a  sense  of  religion, 
which  the  affairs  of  the  world  will  otherwise  wear  out  of 
men's  hearts.  And  the  frequent  returns,  whether  of 
public  devotions,  or  of  any  thing  else,  to  introduce 
religion  into  men's  serious  thoughts,  will  have  an  influ- 
ence upon  them,  in  proportion  as  they  are  susceptible  of 
religion,  and  not  given  over  to  a  reprobate  mind.  For 
this  reason,  besides  others,  the  service  of  the  church 
ought  to  be  celebrated  as  often  as  you  can  have  a  con- 
gregation to  attend  it. 

But  since  the  body  of  the  people,  especially  in  country 
places,  cannot  be  brought  to  attend  it  oftener  than  one  day 
in  a  week;  and  since  this  is  in  no  sort  enough  to  keep 
up  in  them  a  due  sense  of  religion ;  it  were  greatly  to 
be  wished  they  could  be  persuaded  to  any  thing  which 
might,  in  some  measure,  supply  the  want  of  more 
frequent  public  devotions,  or  serve  the  like  purposes. 

•Charge  to  the  Clergy  of  St  Asaph,  1710. 


278 


CHANGE  TO  THE 


Family  prayers,  regularly  kept  up  in  every  huuse,  would 
have  a  great  and  good  effect. 

Secret  prayer,  as  expressly  as  it  is  commanded  by  our 
Saviour,  and  as  evidently  as  it  is  implied  in  the  notion  of 
piety,  will  yet,  I  fear,  be  grievously  forgotten  by  the 
generality,  till  they  can  be  brought  to  fix  for  themselves 
certain  times  of  the  dav  for  it:  since  this  is  not  done  to 
their  hands,  as  it  was  in  the  Jewish  church  by  custom  or 
authority.  Indeed  custom,  as  well  as  the  manifest 
propriety  of  the  things  and  examples  of  good  men  in 
Scripture,  justify  us  in  insisting,  that  none  omit  their 
prayers  morning  or  evening,  who  have  not  thrown  off 
all  regards  to  piety.  But  secret  prayer  comprehends  not 
only  devotions  before  men  begin  and  after  they  have 
ended  the  business  of  the  day,  but  such  also  as  may  be 
performed  while  they  are  employed  in  it,  or  even  in 
company.  And  truly,  if,  besides  our  more  set  devotions, 
morning  and  evening,  all  of  us  would  fix  upon  certain 
times  of  the  day,  so  that  the  return  of  the  hour  should 
remind  us,  to  say  short  prayers,  or  exercise  our  thoughts 
in  a  way  equivalent  to  this  ;  perhaps  there  are  few  persons 
in  so  high  and  habitual  a  state  of  piety,  as  not  to  find  the 
benefit  of  it.  If  it  took  up  no  more  than  a  minute  or  two, 
or  even  less  time  than  that,  it  would  serve  the  end  I  am 
proposing ;  it  would  be  a  recollection,  that  we  are  in  the 
Divine  presence,  and  contribute  to  our  being  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long. 

A  duty  of  the  like  kind,  and  serving  to  the  same 
purpose,  is  the  particular  acknowledgment  of  God  when 
we  are  partaking  of  his  bounty  at  our  meals.  The 
neglect  of  this  is  said  to  have  been  scandalous  to  a 
proverb  in  the  heathen  world;*  but  it  is  without  shame 
laid  aside  at  the  tables  of  the  highest  and  the  lowest  rank 
among  us. 

And  as  parents  should  be  admonished,  and  it  should 
be  pressed  upon  their  consciences,  to  teach  their  children 
their  prayers  and  catechism,  it  being  what  they  are 
obliged  to  upon  all  accounts;  so  it  is  proper  to  be 
mentioned  here,  as  a  means  by  which  they  will  bring  the 

*  Cudworth  on  the  Lord's  Supper,  p.  8.  Casaub.  in  Athenaeum,  1.  i.  c.  xi.  p.  2& 
Duport.  Prtel.  in  Theophraslum,  ed.  Needhain,  c  is.  p.  335,  fcc 


CLERGY  OF  DURHAM. 


279 


principles  of  Christianity  often  to  their  own  minds, 
instead  of  laying  aside  ali  thoughts  of  it  from  wcek's-end 
to  week's-end. 

General  exhortations  to  piety,  abstracted  from  the 
particular  circumstances  of  it,  are  of  great  use  to  such 
as  are  already  got  into  a  religious  course  of  life;  but, 
such  as  are  not,  though  they  be  touched  with  them,  yet 
when  they  go  away  from  church,  they  scarce  know  where 
to  begin,  or  how  to  set  about  what  they  are  exhorted  to. 
And  it  is  with  respect  to  religion,  as  in  the  common 
affairs  of  life,  in  which  many  things  of  great  consequence 
intended,  are  yet  never  done  at  all,  because  they  may  be 
done  at  any  time,  and  in  any  manner ;  which  would  not 
be,  were  some  determinate  time  and  manner  voluntarily 
fixed  upon  for  the  doing  of  them.  Particular  rules  and 
directions  then  concerning  the  times  and  circumstances 
of  performing  acknowledged  duties,  bring  religion  nearer 
to  practice;  and  such  as  are  really  proper,  and  cannot 
well  be  mistaken,  and  are  easily  observed. — Such  parti- 
cular rules  in  religion,  prudently  recommended,  would 
have  an  influence  upon  the  people. 

All  this  indeed  may  be  called  form :  as  every  thing 
external  in  religion  may  be  merely  so.  And  therefore 
whilst  we  endeavour,  in  these  and  other  like  instances, 
to  keep  up  the  form  of  godliness*  amongst  those  who  are 
our  care,  and  over  whom  we  have  any  influence,  we  must 
endeavour  also  that  this  form  be  made  more  and  more 
subservient  to  promote  the  power  of  it.*  Admonish  them 
to  take  heed  that  they  mean  what  they  say  in  their 
prayers,  that  their  thoughts  and  intentions  go  along  with 
their  words,  that  they  really  in  their  hearts  exert  and 
exercise  before  God  the  affections  they  express  with  their 
rnouth.  Teach  them,  not  that  external  religion  is  nothing, 
for  this  is  not  true  in  any  sense ;  it  being  scarce  possible, 
but  that  it  will  lay  some  sort  of  restraint  upon  a  man's 
morals;  and  it  is  moreover  of  good  effect  with  respect  to 
the  world  about  him.  But  teach  them  that  regard  to  one 
duty  will  in  no  sort  atone  for  the  neglect  of  any  other. 
Endeavour  to  raise  in  their  hearts  such  a  sense  of  God 
as  shall  be  an  habitual,  ready  principle  of  reverence 

•2  Tim.  U.  k 


280 


CHARGE  TO  THE 


love,  gratitude,  hope,  trust,  resignation,  and  obedience. 
Exhort  them  to  make  use  of  every  circumstance,  which 
brings  the  subject  of  religion  at  all  before  them;  to  turn 
their  hearts  habitually  to  him;  to  recollect  seriously  the 
thoughts  of  his  presence  in  whom  they  live  and  move  and 
have  their  being,  and  by  a  short  act  of  their  mind  devote 
themselves  to  his  service  — If,  for  instance,  persons 
would  accustom  themselves  to  be  thus  admonished  by 
the  very  sight  of  a  church,  could  it  be  called  superstition? 
Enforce  upon  them  the  necessity  of  making  religion  their 
principal  concern,  as  what  is  the  express  condition  of  the 
gospel  covenant,  and  what  the  very  nature  of  the  thing 
requires.  Explain  to  them  the  terms  of  that  covenant 
of  mercy,  founded  in  the  incarnation,  sacrifice,  and 
intercession  of  Christ,  together  with  the  promised 
assistance  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  not  to  supersede  our  own 
endeavours,  but  to  render  them  effectual.  The  greater 
festivals  of  the  church,  being  instituted  for  commemorat- 
ing the  several  parts  of  the  gospel  history,  of  course  lead 
you  to  explain  these  its  several  doctrines,  and  show  the 
Christian  practice  which  arises  out  of  them.  And  the 
more  occasional  solemnities  of  religion,  as  well  as  these 
festivals,  will  often  afford  you  the  fairest  opportunities 
of  enforcing  all  these  things  in  familiar  conversation. 
Indeed  al!  affectation  of  talking  piously  is  quite  nauseous: 
and  though  there  be  nothing  of  this,  yet  men  will  easily 
be  disgusted  at  the  too  great  frequency  or  length  of  these 
occasional  admonitions.  But  a  word  of  God  and  religion 
dropped  sometimes  in  conversation,  gently,  and  without 
any  thing  severe  or  forbidding  in  the  manner  of  it,  this  is 
not  unacceptable.  It  leaves  an  impression,  is  repeated 
again  by  the  hearers,  and  often  remembered  by  plain 
well-disposed  persons  longer  than  one  would  think. 
Particular  circumstances  too,  which  render  men  more 
apt  to  receive  instruction,  should  be  laid  hold  of  to  talk 
seriously  to  their  consciences.  For  instance,  after  a 
man's  recovery  from  a  dangerous  sickness,  how  proper 
is  it  to  advise  him  to  recollect  and  ever  bear  in  mind, 
what  were  his  hopes  or  fears,  his  wishes  and  resolutions, 
when  under  the  apprehension  of  death;  in  order  to  bring 
Ihim  to  repentance,  or  confirm  him  in  a  course  of  piety, 


CLERGY  OF  DURHAM. 


281 


according  as  his  life  and  character  has  been.  So  likewise 
the  terrible  accidents  which  often  happen  from  riot  and 
debauchery,  and  indeed  almost  every  vice,  are  occasions 
providentially  thrown  in  your  way,  to  discourse  against 
these  vices  in  common  conversation,  as  well  as  from  tne 
pulpit,  upon  any  such  accidents  happening  in  your  parish, 
or  in  a  neighbouring  one.  Occasions  and  circumstances 
of  a  like  kind  to  some  or  other  of  these  occur  often,  and 
ought,  if  I  may  so  speak,  to  be  catched  at,  as  opportunities 
of  conveying  instruction,  both  public  and  private,  with 
great  force  and  advantage. 

Public  instruction  is  absolutely  necessary,  and  can  in 
no  sort  be  dispensed  with.  But  as  it  is  common  to  all 
who  are  present,  many  persons  strangely  neglect  to 
appropriate  what  they  hear  to  themselves,  to  their  own 
heart  and  life.  Now  the  only  remedy  for  this  in  our 
power  is  a  particular  personal  application.  And  a  per- 
sonal application  makes  a  very  different  impression  from 
a  common,  general  one.  It  were  therefore  greatly  to  be 
wished,  that  every  man  should  have  the  principles  of 
Christianity,  and  his  own  particular  duty  enforced  upon 
his  conscience,  in  a  manner  suited  to  his  capacity,  in 
private.  And  besides  the  occasional  opportunities  of 
doing  this,  some  of  which  have  been  intimated,  there  are 
stated  opportunities  of  doing  it.  Such,  for  instance,  is 
confirmation:  and  the  usual  age  for  confirmation  is  that 
time  of  life,  from  which  youth  must  become  more  and 
more  their  own  masters,  when  they  are  often  leaving 
their  father's  house,  going  out  into  the  wide  world  and 
all  its  numerous  temptations;  against  which  they  par- 
ticularly want  to  be  fortified,  by  having  strong  and  lively 
impressions  of  religion  made  upon  their  minds.  Now 
the  6 1st  canon  expressly  requires,  that  every  minister 
that  hath  care  of  souls  shall  use  his  best  endeavour  to 
prepare  and  make  able  as  many  as  he  can  to  be  confirmed; 
which  cannot  be  done  as  it  ought  without  such  personal 
application  to  each  candidate  in  particular  as  I  am  recom- 
mending. Another  opportunity  for  doing  this  is,  when 
any  one  of  your  parishioners  signifies  his  name  as  in- 
tending for  the  first  time  to  be  partaker  of  the  communion. 
The  rubric  requires,  that  all  persons,  whenever  they  intend 


282 


CHARGE  TO  THE 


to  receive,  shall  signify  their  names  beforehand  to  the 
minister;  which,  if  it  be  not  insisted  upon  in  all  cases, 
ought  absolutely  to  be  insisted  upon  for  the  first  time. 
Now  this  even  lays  it  in  your  way  to  discourse  with 
them  in  private  upon  the  nature  and  benefits  of  this 
sacrament,  and  enforce  upon  them  the  importance  and 
necessity  of  religion.  However  I  do  not  mean  to  put 
this  upon  the  same  foot  with  catechising  youth,  and 
preparing  them  for  confirmation;  these  being  indispen- 
sable obligations,  and  expressly  commanded  by  our 
canons.  This  private  intercourse  with  your  parishioners 
preparatory  to  their  first  communion,  let  it,  if  you  please, 
be  considered  as  a  voluntary  service  to  religion  on  your 
part,  and  a  voluntary  instance  of  docility  on  theirs.  1 
will  only  add  as  to  this  practice,  that  it  is  regularly  kept 
up  by  some  persons,  and  particularly  by  one,  whose 
exemplary  behaviour  in  every  part  of  the  pastoral  office 
is  enforced  upon  you  by  his  station  of  authority  and 
influence  in  (this  part*  especially  of)  the  diocess. 

I  am  very  sensible,  my  brethren,  that  some  of  these 
things  in  places  where  they  are  greatly  wanted  are 
impracticable,  from  the  largeness  of  parishes,  suppose. 
And  where  there  is  no  impediment  of  this  sort,  yet  the 
performance  of  them  will  depend  upon  others,  as  well  as 
upon  you.  People  cannot  be  admonished  or  instructed 
in  private,  unless  they  will  permit  it.  And  little  will 
you  be  able  to  do  in  forming  the  minds  of  children  to  a 
sense  of  religion,  if  their  parents  will  not  assist  you  in 
it;  and  yet  much  less,  if  they  will  frustrate  your  endea- 
vours, by  their  bad  example,  and  giving  encouragement 
to  their  children  to  be  dissolute.  The  like  is  to  be  said 
also  of  your  influence  in  reforming  the  common  people 
in  general,  in  proportion  as  their  superiors  act  in  like 
manner  to  such  parents;  and  whilst  they,  the  lower 
people  I  mean,  must  have  such  numerous  temptations 
to  drunkenness  and  riot  every  where  placed  in  their 
way.  And  it  is  cruel  usage  we  often  meet  with,  in  bein^ 
censured  for  not  doing  what  we  cannot  do,  withouc 
what  he  cannot  have,  the  concurrence  of  our  censurers* 
Doubtless  very  much  reproach  which  now  lights  upon 

*  Tli  •  i.r.  liil  nmnry  of  Northumberland. 


CLERGY  OF  DURHAM. 


283 


the  clergy  would  be  found  to  fall  elsewhere,  if  due 
allowances  were  made  for  things  of  this  kind.  But  then 
we,  my  brethren,  must  take  care  and  not  make  more 
than  due  allowances  for  them.  If  others  deal  unchari- 
tably with  us,  we  must  deal  impartially  with  ourselves, 
as  in  a  matter  of  conscience,  in  determining  what  good 
is  in  our  power  to  do:  and  not  let  indolence  keep  us 
from  setting  about  what  really  is  in  our  power;  nor  any 
heat  of  temper  create  obstacles  in  the  prosecution  of  it, 
or  render  insuperable  such  as  we  find,  when  perhaps 
gentleness  and  patience  would  prevent  or  overcome  them. 

Indeed  all  this  diligence  to  which  I  have  been  exhort- 
ing you  and  myself,  for  God  forbid  I  should  not  consider 
myself  as  included  in  all  the  general  admonitions  you 
receive  from  me;  all  this  diligence  in  these  things  does 
indeed  suppose,  that  we  give  ourselves  wholly  to  them. 
It  supposes,  not  only  that  we  have  a  real  sense  of  religion 
upon  our  own  minds,  but  also,  that  to  promote  the 
practice  of  it  in  others  is  habitually  uppermost  in  our 
thought  and  intention,  as  the  business  of  our  lives.  And 
this,  my  brethren,  is  the  business  of  our  lives,  in  every 
sense,  and  upon  every  account.  It  is  the  general 
business  of  all  Christians  as  they  have  opportunity:  it  is 
our  particular  business.  It  is  so,  as  we  have  devoted 
ourselves  to  it  by  the  most  solemn  engagements;  as, 
according  to  our  Lords  appointment,  we  live  of  the 
gospel;*  and  as  the  preservation  and  advancement  of 
religion,  in  such  and  such  districts,  are,  in  some  respects, 
our  appropriated  trust. 

•  By  being  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  this  our  trust,  by 
thus  taking  heed  to  the  ministry  we  have  received  in  the 
Lord  that  we  fulfil  it,i  we  shall  do  our  part  towards 
reviving  a  practical  sense  of  religion  amongst  the  people 
committed  to  our  care.  And  this  will  be  the  securest 
barrier  against  the  efforts  of  infidelity ;  a  great  source  of 
which  plainly  is,  the  endeavour  to  get.  rid  of  religious 
restraints.  But  whatever  be  our  success  with  regard  to 
others,  we  shall  have  the  approbation  of  our  consciences, 
and  may  rest  assured,  that,  as  to  ourselves  at  least,  our 
labour  is  not  in  vain  in  the  LordS\ 


*  1  Cor.  iac.  14.  +  Col.  iv.  17.  i  1  Cor.  xv.  68. 


CORRESPONDENCE 

BETWEEN 

DR  BUTLER  AND  DR  CLARKE. 


the  first  letter. 

Reverend  Sir, 
f  suppose  you  will  wonder  at  the  present  trouble  from 
one  who  is  a  perfect  stranger  to  you,  though  you  are  not 
so  to  him;  but  I  hope  the  occasion  will  excuse  my 
boldness.  I  have  made  it,  sir,  my  business,  ever  since 
I  thought  myself  capable  of  such  sort  of  reasoning,  to 
prove  to  myself  the  being  and  attributes  of  God.  And 
being  sensible  that  it  is  a  matter  of  the  last  consequence, 
I  endeavoured  after  a  demonstrative  proof;  not  only 
more  fully  to  satisfy  my  own  mind,  but  also  in  order  to 
defend  the  great  truths  of  natural  religion,  and  those  ol 
the  Christian  revelation  which  follow  from  them,  against 
all  opposers:  but  must  own  with  concern,  that  hitherto 
I  have  been  unsuccessful;  and  though  I  have  got  very 
probable  arguments,  yet  I  can  go  but  a  very  little  way 
with  demonstration  in  the  proof  of  those  things.  When 
first  your  book  on  those  subjects  (which  by  all,  whom  I 
have  discoursed  with,  is  so  justly  esteemed)  was  recom- 
mended to  me,  I  was  in  great  hopes  of  having  all  my 
inquiries  answered.  But  since  in  some  places,  either 
through  my  not  understanding  your  meaning,  or  what 
else  I  know  not,  even  that  has  failed  me,  I  almost 
despair  of  ever  arriving  to  such  a  satisfaction  as  I  aim  at, 
unless  by  the  method  I  now  use.  You  cannot  but  know, 
sir,  that  of  two  different  expressions  of  the  same  thing, 
though  equally  clear  to  some  persons,  yet  to  others  one 
of  them  is  sometimes  very  obscure,  though  the  other  be 
perfectly  intelligible.  Perhaps  this  may  be  my  case 
here;  and  could  I  see  those  of  your  arguments,  of  which 
I  doubt,  differently  proposed,  possibly  I  might  yield  a 
readv  assent  to  them.    This,  sir,  1  cannot  but  think  a 


CORRESPONDENCE,  ETC. 


285 


sufficient  excuse  for  the  present  trouble;  it  being  such  a 
one  as  I  hope  may  prevail  for  an  answer,  with  one  who 
seems  to  aim  at  nothing  more  than  that  good  work  of 
instructing  others. 

In  your  Demonstration  of  the  Being  and  Attributes  of 
God,  Prop.  VI.*  [edit.  2d.  pp.  69,  70,]  you  propose  to 
prove  the  infinity  or  omnipresence  of  the  self-existent 
Being.  The  former  part  of  the  proof  seems  highly 
probable ;  but  the  latter  part,  which  seems  to  aim  at 
demonstration,  is  not  to  me  convincing.  The  latter 
part  of  the  paragraph  is,  if  I  mistake  not,  an  entire 
argument  of  itself,  which  runs  thus:  "To  suppose  a 
finite  being  to  be  self-existent,  is  to  say  that  it  is  a 
contradiction  for  that  being  not  to  exist,  the  absence  of 
which  may  yet  be  conceived  without  a  contradiction; 
which  is  the  greatest  absurdity  in  the  world."  The  sense 
of  these  words  ["the  absence  of  which"]  seems  plainly 
to  be  determined  by  the  following  sentence,  to  mean  its 
absence  from  any  particular  place.  Which  sentence  is 
to  prove  it  to  be  an  absurdity;  and  is  this:  "  For  if  a 
being  can,  without  a  contradiction,  be  absent  from  one 
place,  it  ma) ,  without  a  contradiction,  be  absent  from 
another  place,  and  from  all  places."  Now  supposing 
this  to  be  a  consequence,  all  that  it  proves  is,  that  if  a 
being  can,  without  a  contradiction,  be  absent  from  one 
place  at  one  time,  it  may,  without  a  contradiction,  be 
absent  from  another  place,  and  so  from  all  places,  at 
different  times;  (for  I  cannot  see,  that  if  a  being  can  be 
absent  from  one  place  at  one  time,  therefore  it  may, 
without  a  contradiction,  be  absent  from  all  places  at  the 
same  time,  i.  e.  may  cease  to  exist.)  Now,  if  it  proves 
no  more  than  this,  I  cannot  see  that  it  reduces  the 
supposition  to  any  absurdity.  Suppose  I  could  demon- 
strate, that  any  particular  man  should  live  a  thousand 
years;  this  man  might,  without  a  contradiction,  be  absent 
from  one  and  from  all  places  at  different  times;  but  it 
would  not  from  thence  follow,  that  he  might  be  absent 
from  all  places  at  the  same  time,  i.  e.  that  he  might  cease 
to  exist.  No;  this  would  be  a  contradiction,  because  I 
am  supposed  to  have  demonstrated  that  he  should  live  ■ 

*  P.  45,  edit.  4 ;  p.  4 1 ,  ed't.  fi  ;  p.  -13,  relit.  7  ;  p.  44,  edit.  8. 


286 


CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN 


thousand  years.  It  would  be  exactly  the  same,  if, 
instead  of  a  thousand  years,  I  should  say,  for  ever;  and 
the  proof  seems  the  same,  whether  it  be  applied  to  a 
self-existent  or  a  dependent  being. 

What  else  I  have  to  offer  is  in  relation  to  your  proof, 
that  the  self-existent  being  must  of  necessity  be  but  one. 
Which  proof  is  as  follows,  in  Prop.  VII.*  [edit.  2d.  p.  74.  J 
"  To  suppose  two  or  more  different  natures  existing  of 
themselves,  necessarily,  and  independent  from  each  other, 
implies  this  plain  contradiction;  that,  each  of  them  being 
independent  from  the  other,  they  may  either  of  them  be 
supposed  to  exist  alone;  so  that  it  will  be  no  contradic- 
tion to  imagine  the  other  not  to  exist,  and  consequently 
neither  of  them  will  be  necessarily  existing."  The  sup- 
position indeed  implies,  that  since  each  of  these  beings  is 
independent  from  the  other,  they  may  either  of  them 
exist  alone,  *.  e.  without  any  relation  to,  or  dependence 
on,  the  other:  but  where  is  the  third  idea,  to  connect  this 
proposition  and  the  following  one,  viz.,  "  so  that  it  will 
be  no  contradiction  to  imagine  the  other  not  to  exist  ?" 
Were  this  a  consequence  of  the  former  proposition,  I 
allow  it  would  be  demonstration,  by  the  first  corollary  of 
Prop.  III.+  [2d  edit.  p.  26.]  but  since  these  two  proposi- 
tions, ["  they  may  either  of  them  be  supposed  to  exist 
alone,"]  and,  ["  so  that  it  will  be  no  contradiction  to 
imagine  the  other  not  to  exist,"]  are  very  widely  different; 
since  likewise  it  is  no  immediate  consequence,  that 
because  either  may  be  supposed  to  exist  independent 
from  the  other,  therefore  the  other  may  be  supposed  not 
to  exist  at  all ;  how  is  what  was  proposed,  proved?  That 
the  propositions  are  different,  I  think  is  plain ;  and 
whether  there  be  an  immediate  connexion,  every  body 
that  reads  your  book  must  judge  for  themselves.  I  must 
say,  for  my  own  part,  the  absurdity  does  not  appear  at 
first  sight,  any  more  than  the  absurdity  of  saying  that 
the  angles  below  the  base  in  an  isosceles  triangle  are 
unequal;  which  though  it  is  absolutely  false,  yet  I  suppose 
no  one  will  lay  down  the  contrary  for  an  axiom ;  because, 
though  it  is  true,  yet  there  is  need  of  a  proof  to  make  it 
appear  so. 

*  P.  48.  edit.  4  :  p.  44.  edit.  6  ;  p.  46.  edit.  7  ;  p.  47  edit. 

t  P.  16,  IT.  edit.  4.  6,  7,  and  8. 


DR  BUTLER  AND  DR  CLARKE. 


287 


Perhaps  it  may  be  answered,  that  I  have  not  rightly 
explained  the  words,  "  to  exist  alone;"  and  that  thev  do 
not  n.ean  only,  to  exist  independent  from  the  other ;  but 
that  "  existing  alone"  means  that  nothing  exists  with  it. 
Whether  this  or  the  other  was  meant,  I  cannot  determine : 
but,  which  ever  it  was,  what  I  have  said  will  hold.  For 
if  this  last  be  the  sense  of  those  words,  ["  they  either  of 
them  maj  be  supposed  to  exist  alone;"]  it  indeed  implies 
that  it  will  be  no  contradiction  to  suppose  the  other  not 
to  exist:  but  then  I  ask,  how  come  these  two  proposi- 
tions to  be  connected ;  that,  to  suppose  two  different 
natures  existing  of  themselves  necessarily  and  independent 
from  each  other,  implies  that  each  of  them  may  be 
supposed  to  exist  alone  in  this  sense  ?    Which  is  exactly 
the  same  as  I  said  before,  only  applied  to  different 
sentences.    So  that  if  "  existing  alone"  be  understood  as 
I  first  took  it,  I  allow  it  is  implied  in  the  supposition; 
but  cannot  see  that  the  consequence  is,  that  it  will  be  no 
contradiction  to  suppose  the  other  not  to  exist.    But  if 
the  words,  "  existing  alone,"  are  meant  in  the  latter  sense, 
I  grant,  that  if  either  of  them  be  supposed  thus  to  exist 
alone,  it  will  be  no  contradiction  to  suppose  the  other  not 
to  exist:  but  then  I  cannot  see,  that  to  suppose  two 
different  natures  existing,  of  themselves,  necessarily  and 
independent  from  each  other,  implies  that  either  of  them 
may  be  supposed  to  exist  alone  in  this  sense  of  the  words  ; 
but,  only,  that  either  of  them  may  be  supposed  to  exist 
without  having  any  relation  to  the  other,  and  that  there 
will  be  no  need  of  the  existence  of  the  one  in  order  to 
the  existence  of  the  other.  But  though  upon  this  account, 
were  there  no  other  principle  of  its  existence,  it  might 
cease  to  exist;  yet  on  the  account  of  the  necessity  of  its 
own  nature,  which  is  quite  distinct  from  the  other,  it  is  an 
absolute  absurdity  to  suppose  it  not  to  exist. 

Thus,  sir,  I  have  proposed  my  doubts,  with  the  reasons 
of  them.  In  which  if  I  have  wrested  your  words  to 
another  sense  than  you  designed  them,  or  in  any  respect 
argued  unfairly,  I  assure  you  it  was  without  design.  So 
I  hope  you  will  impute  it  to  mistake.  And,  if  it  will  not 
be  too  great  a  trouble,  let  me  once  more  beg  the  favour 
of  a  line  from  you,  by  which  you  will  lay  me  under  a 


23b 


CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN 


particular  obligation  to  be,  what,  with  the  rest  of  th« 
world,  I  now  am, 

Reverend  Sir,  your  most  obliged  servant,  &c. 
Nov.  4,  1713. 

THE  ANSWER  TO  THE  FIRST  LETTER. 

Sir, 

Did  men  who  publish  controversial  papers  accustom 
themselves  to  write  with  that  candour  and  ingenuity, 
with  which  you  propose  your  difficulties,  I  am  persuaded 
almost  all  disputes  might  be  very  amicably  terminated, 
either  by  men's  coming  at  last  to  agree  in  opinion,  or  at 
least  rinding  reason  to  suffer  each  other  friendly  to  differ. 

Your  two  objections  are  very  ingenious,  and  urged 
with  great  strength  and  acuteness  Yet  I  am  not 
without  hopes  of  being  able  to  give  you  satisfaction  in 
both  of  them.  To  your  first,  therefore,  I  answer: 
Whatever  may,  without  a  contradiction,  be  absent  from 
any  one  place,  at  any  one  time,  may  also,  without  a 
contradiction,  be  absent  from  all  places  at  all  times. 
For,  whatever  is  absolutely  necessary  at  all,  is  absolutely 
necessary  in  every  part  of  space,  and  in  every  point  of 
duration.  Whatever  can  at  anv  time  be  conceived 
possible  to  be  absent  from  any  one  part  of  space,  may 
for  the  same  reason  [viz.  the  implying  no  contradiction 
in  the  nature  of  things]  be  conceived  possible  to  be 
absent  from  every  other  part  of  space  at  the  same  time; 
either  by  ceasing  to  be,  or  by  supposing  it  never  to  have 
begun  to  be.  Your  instance  about  demonstrating  a  man 
to  live  a  thousand  years,  is  what,  I  think,  led  you  into 
the  mistake;  and  is  a  good  instance  to  lead  you  out  of 
it  again.  You  may  suppose  a  man  shall  live  a  thousand 
years,  or  God  may  reveal  and  promise  he  shall  live  a 
thousand  years;  and  upon  that  supposition,  it  shall  not 
be  possible  for  the  man  to  be  absent  from  all  places  in 
any  part  of  that  time.  Very  true :  but  why  shall  it  not 
be  possible?  only  because  it  is  contrary  to  the  supposi- 
tion, or  to  the  promise  of  God;  but  not  contrary  to  the 
absolute  nature  of  things;  which  would  be  the  case,  if 
the  man  existed  necessarily,  as  every  part  of  space  does. 


DR  BUTLER  AKD  DR  CLARKE. 


289 


In  supposing  you  could  demonstrate,  a  man  should  live 
a  thousand  years,  or  one  year;  you  make  an  impossible 
and  contradictory  supposition.  For  though  you  may 
know  certainly  (by  revelation  suppose)  that  he  will  live 
so  long;  yet  this  is  only  the  certainty  of  a  thing  true  in 
fact,  not  in  itself  necessary:  and  demonstration  is  appli- 
cable to  nothing  but  what  is  necessary  in  itself,  necessary 
in  all  places  and  at  all  times  equally. 

To  your  second  difficulty,  I  answer:  What  exists 
necessarily,  not  only  must  so  exist  alone,  as  to  be 
independent  of  any  thing  else;  but,  (being  self-sufficient) 
may  also  so  exist  alone,  as  that  every  thing  else  may 
possibly  (or  without  any  contradiction  in  the  nature  of 
things)  be  supposed  not  to  exist  at  all:  and  consequently 
(since  that  which  may  possibly  be  supposed  not  to  exist 
at  all,  is  not  necessarily  existent),  no  other  thing  can  be 
necessarily  existent.  Whatever  is  necessarily  existing, 
there  is  need  of  its  existence  in  order  to  the  supposal  of 
the  existence  of  any  other  thing;  so  that  nothing  can 
possibly  be  supposed  to  exist,  without  presupposing  and 
including  antecedently  the  existence  of  that  which  is 
necessary.  For  instance;  the  supposal  of  the  existence 
of  any  thing  whatever  includes  necessarily  a  presupposi- 
tion of  the  existence  of  space  and  time;  and  if  any  thing 
could  exist  without  space  or  time,  it  would  follow  that 
space  and  time  were  not  necessarily  existing.  Therefore, 
the  supposing  any  thing  possibly  to  exist  alone,  so  as 
not  necessarily  to  include  the  presupposal  of  some  other 
thing,  proves  demonstrably  that  that  other  thing  is  not 
necessarily  existing;  because,  whatever  has  necessity  of 
existence  cannot  possibly,  in  any  conception  whatsoever, 
oe  supposed  away.  There  cannot  possibly  be  any 
notion  of  the  existence  of  any  thing,  there  cannot 
possibly  be  any  notion  of  existence  at  all,  but  what  shall 
necessarily  preinclude  the  notion  of  that  which  has 
necessary  existence.  And  consequently  the  two  propo- 
sitions, which  you  judged  independent,  are  really 
necessarily  connected.  These  sorts  of  things  are  indeed 
very  difficult  to  express,  and  not  easy  to  be  conceived 
but  by  very  attentive  minds:  but  to  such  as  can  and  will 
attend,  nothing,  I  think,  is  more  demonstrably  convictive. 


290 


CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN 


If  any  thing  still  sticks  with  you  in  this  or  any  other 
part  of  my  books,  I  shall  be  very  willing  to  be  informed 
of  it;  who  am,  Sir,  Your  assured  friend  and  servant, 

S.  C. 

Nov.  10,  1713. 

P.  S.  Many  readers,  I  observe,  have  misunderstood 
my  second  general  proposition;  as  if  the  words  ["  some 
one  unchangeable  and  independent  being,"]  meant  [one 
only — being;]  whereas  the  true  meaning,  and  all  that 
the  argument  there  requires,  is,  [some  one  at  least.] 
That  there  can  be  but  one,  is  the  thing  proved  afterwards 
in  the  seventh  proposition. 


THE  SECOND  LETTER. 

Reverend  Sir, 
I  have  often  thought  that  the  chief  occasions  of  men  s 
differing  so  much  in  their  opinions,  were,  either  their 
not  understanding  each  other;  or  else,  that,  instead  of 
ingenuously  searching  after  truth,  they  have  made  it 
their  business  to  find  out  arguments  for  the  proof  of 
what  they  have  once  asserted.  However,  it  is  certain 
there  may  be  other  reasons  for  persons  not  agreeing  in 
their  opinions:  and  where  it  is  so,  I  cannot  but  think 
with  you,  that  they  will  find  reason  to  suffer  each  other 
to  differ  friendly ;  every  man  having  a  way  of  thinking, 
in  some  respects,  peculiarly  his  own. 

I  am  sorry  I  must  tell  you,  your  answers  to  my  objec- 
tions are  not  satisfactory.  The  reasons  why  I  think 
them  not  so  are  as  follow. 

You  say,  "  Whatever  is  absolutely  necessary  at  all  is 
absolutely  necessary  in  every  part  of  space,  and  in  every 
point  of  duration."  Were  this  evident,  it  would  cer- 
tainly prove  what  you  bring  it  for;  viz.  that  "  whatever 
may,  without  a  contradiction,  be  absent  from  one  place 
at  one  time,  may  also  be  absent  from  all  places  at  all 
times."  But  I  do  not  conceive,  that  the  idea  of  ubiquity 
is  contained  in  the  idea  of  self-existence,  or  directly 
follows  from  it;  any  otherwise  than  as,  whatever  exists 


DK  BUTLKK  AND  DK  CLARKE. 


291 


must  exist  somewhere.  You  add,  "  Whatever  can  at 
any  time  be  conceived  possible  to  be  absent  from  any 
one  part  of  space,  may  for  the  same  reason  [viz.  the 
implying  no  contradiction  in  the  nature  of  things]  be 
conceived  possible  to  be  absent  from  every  other  part  of 
space,  at  the  same  time."  Now  I  cannot  see,  that  I 
can  make  these  two  suppositions  for  the  same  reason,  or 
upon  the  same  account.  The  reason  why  I  conceive 
this  being  may  be  absent  from  one  place,  is  because  it 
doth  not  contradict  the  former  proof  [drawn  from  the 
nature  of  things],  in  which  I  proved  only  that  it  must 
necessarily  exist.  But  the  other  supposition,  viz.  that  I 
can  conceive  it  possible  to  be  absent  from  every  part  of 
space  at  one  and  the  same  time,  directly  contradicts  the 
proof  that  it  must  exist  somewhere;  and  so  is  an  express 
contradiction.  Unless  it  be  said,  that  as,  when  we  have 
proved  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  equal  to  two  right 
ones,  that  relation  of  the  equality  of  its  angles  to  two 
right  ones  will  be  wherever  a  triangle  exists;  so,  when 
we  have  proved  the  necessary  existence  of  a  being,  this 
being  must  exist  every  where.  But  there  is  a  great 
difference  between  these  two  things:  the  one  being  the 
proof  of  a  certain  relation,  upon  supposition  of  such  a 
being's  existence  with  such  particular  properties ;  and 
consequently,  wherever  this  being  and  these  properties 
exist,  this  relation  must  exist  too:  but  from  the  proof  of 
the  necessary  existence  of  a  being,  it  is  no  evident  con- 
sequence that  it  exists  every  where.  My  using  the  word 
demonstration,  instead  of  proof  which  leaves  no  room  for 
doubt,  was  through  negligence,  for  I  never  heard  of  strict 
demonstration  of  matter  of  fact. 

In  your  answer  to  my  second  difficulty,  you  say, 
"  Whatsoever  is  necessarily  existing,  there  is  need  of  its 
existence,  in  order  to  the  supposal  of  the  existence  of 
any  other  thing."  All  the  consequences  you  draw  from 
this  proposition,  I  see  proved  demonstrably;  and  con- 
sequently, that  the  two  propositions  I  thought  indepen- 
dent are  closely  connected.  But  how,  or  upon  what 
account,  is  there  need  of  the  existence  of  whatever  ig 
necessarily  existing,  in  order  to  the  existence  of  any 
other  thing?  Is  it  as  there  is  need  of  space  and  duration, 


292 


CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN 


in  order  to  the  existence  of  any  thing;  or  is  it  needful 
only  as  the  cause  of  the  existence  of  all  other  things  ?  If 
the  former  be  said,  as  youi  instance  seems  to  intimate: 
I  answer;  space  and  duration  are  very  abstruse  in  their 
natures,  and,  I  think,  cannot  properly  be  called  things, 
but  are  considered  rather  as  affections  which  belong,  and 
in  the  order  of  our  thoughts  are  antecedently  necessary, 
to  the  existence  of  all  things.  And  I  can  no  more 
conceive  how  a  necessarily  existent  being  can,  on  the 
same  account,  or  in  the  same  manner  as  space  and 
duration  are,  be  needful  in  order  to  the  existence  of  any 
other  being,  than  I  can  conceive  extension  attributed  to 
a  thought;  that  idea  no  more  belonging  to  a  thing  existing, 
than  extension  belongs  to  thought.  But  if  the  latter  be 
said,  that  there  is  need  of  the  existence  of  whatever  is  a 
necessary  being,  in  order  to  the  existence  of  any  other 
thing;  only  as  this  necessary  being  must  be  the  cause  of 
the  existence  of  all  other  things:  I  think  this  is  plainly 
begging  the  question;  for  it  supposes  that  there  is  no 
other  being  exists,  but  what  is  casual,  and  so  not  necessary. 
And  on  what  other  account,  or  in  what  other  manner 
than  one  of  these  two,  there  can  be  need  of  the  existence 
of  a  necessary  being  in  order  to  the  existence  of  any 
thing  else,  I  cannot  conceive. 

Thus,  sir,  you  see  I  entirely  agree  with  you  in  all  the 
consequences  you  have  drawn  from  your  suppositions, 
but  cannot  see  the  truth  of  the  suppositions  themselves. 

I  have  aimed  at  nothing  in  my  style,  but  only  to  be 
intelligible;  being  sensible  that  it  is  very  difficult  (as  you 
observe)  to  express  one's  self  on  these  sorts  of  subjects, 
especially  for  one  who  is  altogether  unaccustomed  to  write 
upon  them. 

I  have  nothing  at  present  more  to  add,  but  my  sincerest 
thanks  for  your  trouble  in  answering  my  letter,  and  for 
your  professed  readiness  to  be  acquainted  with  any  other 
difficulty  that  I  may  meet  with  in  any  of  your  writings. 
I  am  willing  to  interpret  this,  as  somewhat  like  a  promise 
of  an  answer  to  what  I  have  now  written,  if  there  be  any 
thing  in  it  which  deserves  one.  I  am,  Reverend  Sir, 
Your  most  obliged  humble  servant. 

Nov.  23,  1 713. 


DR  BUTLER  AND  DR  CLARKE. 


293 


THE  ANSWER  TO  THE  SECOND  LETTER, 

Sir, 

It  seems  to  me,  that  the  reason  why  you  do  not  appre- 
hend ubiquity  to  be  necessarily  connected  with  self- 
existence,  is  because,  in  the  order  of  your  ideas,  you  first 
conceive  a  being  (a  finite  being,  suppose),  and  then 
conceive  self-existence  to  be  a  property  of  that  being ;  as 
the  angles  are  properties  of  a  triangle,  when  a  triangle 
exists:  whereas,  on  the  contrary,  necessity  of  existence, 
not  being  a  property  consequent  upon  the  supposition  of 
the  things  existing,  but  antecedently  the  cause  or  ground 
of  that  existence;  it  is  evident  this  necessity,  being  not 
limited  to  any  antecedent  subject,  as  angles  are  to  a 
triangle;  but  being  itself  original,  absolute,  and  (in  order 
of  nature)  antecedent  to  all  existence;  cannot  but  be 
every  where,  for  the  same  reason  that  it  is  any  where. 
By  applying  this  reasoning  to  the  instance  of  space,  you 
will  find,  that  by  consequence  it  belongs  truly  to  that 
substance,  whereof  space  is  a  property,*  as  duration  also 
is.  What  you  say  about  a  necessary  being  existing 
somewhere,  supposes  it  to  be  finite;  and  being  finite, 
supposes  some  cause  which  determined  that  such  a  certain 
quantity  of  that  being  should  exist,  neither  more  nor  less: 
and  that  cause  must  either  be  a  voluntary  cause ;  or  else 
such  a  necessary  cause,  the  quantity  of  whose  power 
must  be  determined  and  limited  by  some  other  cause. 
But  in  original  absolute  necessity,  antecedent  (in  order 
of  nature)  to  the  existence  of  any  thing,  nothing  of  all 
this  can  have  place ;  but  the  necessity  is  necessarily  every 
where  alike. 

Concerning  the  second  difficulty,  I  answer:  That 
which  exists  necessarily,  is  needful  to  the  existence  of 
any  other  thing  ;  not  considered  now  as  a  cause  (for  that 
indeed  is  begging  the  question),  but  as  a  sine  quo  non  ; 
in  the  sense  as  space  is  necessary  to  every  thing,  and 
nothing  can  possibly  be  conceived  to  exist,  without 
thereby  presupposing  space:  which  therefore  I  apprehend 
to  be  a  property  or  mode  of  the  self-existent  so  .stance; 

*  Or.  nude  of  existence. 


294 


CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN 


and  that,  by  being  evidently  necessary  itself,  it  proves 
that  the  substance,  of  which  it  is  a  property,  must  also 
be  necessary  ;  necessary  both  in  itself,  and  needful  to 
the  existence  of  any  thing  else  whatsoever.  Extension 
indeed  does  not  belong  to  thought,  because  thought  is  not 
a  being ;  but  there  is  need  of  extension  to  the  existence 
of  every  being,  to  a  being  which  has  or  has  not  thought, 
or  any  other  quality  whatsoever,        I  am,  Sir, 

Your  real  friend  and  servant 

London,  Nov.  28,  1713. 


THE  THIRD  LETTER. 

Reverend  Sir, 
I  do  not  very  well  understand  your  meaning,  when  you 
say  that  you  think,  "  in  the  order  of  my  ideas  I  first 
conceive  a  being  (finite  suppose)  to  exist,  and  then 
conceive  self-existence  to  be  a  property  of  that  being." 
If  you  mean  that  I  first  suppose  a  finite  being  to  exist  I 
know  not  why;  affirming  necessity  of  existence  to  be 
only  a  consequent  of  its  existence;  and  that,  when  I  have 
supposed  it  finite,  I  very  safely  conclude  it  is  not  infinite; 
I  am  utterly  at  a  loss,  upon  what  expressions  in  my  letter 
this  conjecture  can  be  founded.  But  if  you  mean,  that 
I  first  of  all  prove  a  being  to  exist  from  eternity,  and 
then,  from  the  reasons  of  things,  prove  that  such  a  being 
must  be  eternally  necessary;  I  freely  own  it.  Neither 
do  I  conceive  it  to  be  irregular  or  absurd;  for  there  is  a 
great  difference  between  the  order  in  which  things  exist, 
and  the  order  in  which  I  prove  to  myself  that  they  exist. 
Neither  do  I  think  my  saying  a  necessary  being  exists 
somewhere,  suppose  it  to  be  finite;  it  only  supposes  that 
this  being  exists  in  space,  without  determining  whether 
here,  or  there,  or  every  where. 

To  my  second  objection,  you  say,  "  That  which  exist« 
necessarily,  is  needful  to  the  existence  of  any  other  thing, 
as  a  sine  qua  non;  in  the  sense  space  is  necessary  to 
every  thing:  which  is  proved  (you  say)  by  this  con- 
sideration, that  space  is  a  property  of  the  self-existent 
substance;  and  being  both  necessary  in  itself,  and  needful 


1  U  BUTLER  AND  DR  CLARKE. 


295 


to  the  existence  of  every  thing  else;  consequently  the 
substance,  of  which  it  is  a  property,  must  be  so  too." 
Space,  I  own,  is  in  one  sense  a  property  of  the  self- 
existent  substance;  but,  in  the  same  sense,  it  is  also  a 
property  of  all  other  substances.  The  only  difference  is 
in  respect  to  the  quantity.  And  since  every  part  of 
space,  as  well  as  the  whole,  is  necessary;  every  substance 
consequently  must  be  self-existent,  because  it  hath  this 
self -existent  property.  Which  since  you  will  not  admit 
for  true ;  if  it  directly  follows  from  your  arguments,  they 
cannot  be  conclusive. 

What  you  say  under  the  first  head  proves,  I  think,  to 
a  very  great  probability,  though  not  to  me  with  the 
evidence  of  demonstration:  but  your  arguments  under 
the  second  I  am  not  able  to  see  the  force  of.  m 

I  am  so  far  from  being  pleased  that  I  can  form 
objections  to  your  arguments,  that,  besides  the  satisfac- 
tion it  would  have  given  me  in  my  own  mind,  I  should 
have  thought  it  an  honour  to  have  entered  into  your 
reasonings,  and  seen  the  force  of  them.  I  cannot  desire 
to  trespass  any  more  upon  your  better  employed  time; 
so  shall  only  add  my  hearty  thanks  for  your  trouble  on 
my  account,  and  that  I  am  with  the  greatest  respect, 

Reverend  Sir, 
Your  most  obliged  humble  servant. 

Dec.  5,  1713. 


THE  ANSWER  TO  THE  THIRD  LETTER. 

Sir, 

Though,  when  I  turn  my  thoughts  every  way,  I  fully 
persuade  myself  there  is  no  defect  in  the  argument  itself; 
yet  in  my  manner  of  expression  I  am  satisfied  there  must 
be  some  want  of  clearness,  when  there  remains  any 
difficulty  to  a  person  of  your  abilities  and  sagacity.  I 
did  not  mean  that  your  saying  a  necessary  being  exists 
somewhere,  does  necessarily  suppose  it  to  be  finite;  but 
that  the  manner  of  expression  is  apt  to  excite  in  the 
mind  an  idea  of  a  finite  being,  at  the  same  time  that  you 
are  thinking  of  a  necessary  being,  without  accurately 


296 


CORRESPONDENCE 


BETWEEN 


attending  to  the  nature  of  that  necessity  by  which  it 
exists.  Necessity  absolute,  and  antecedent  (in  order  of 
nature)  to  the  existence  of  any  subject,  has  nothing  to 
limit  it;  but,  if  it  operates  at  all  (as  it  must  needs  do), 
it  must  operate  (if  I  may  so  speak)  every  where  and  at 
all  times  alike.  Determination  of  a  particular  quantity, 
or  particular  time  or  place  of  existence  of  any  thing, 
cannot  arise  but  from  somewhat  external  to  the  thing 
itself.  For  example:  why  there  should  exist  just  such 
a  small  determinate  quantity  of  matter,  neither  more  nor 
less,  interspersed  in  the  immense  vacuities  of  space,  no 
reason  can  be  given.  Nor  can  there  be  any  thing  in 
nature,  which  could  have  determined  a  thing  so  indiffe- 
rent in  itself,  as  is  the  measure  of  that  quantity ;  but  only 
the  will  of  an  intelligent  and  free  agent.  To  suppose 
matter,  or  any  other  substance,  necessarily  existing  in  a 
finite  determinate  quantity;  in  an  inch-cube,  for  instance; 
or  in  any  certain  number  of  cube-inches,  and  no  more; 
is  exactly  the  same  absurdity,  as  supposing  it  to  exist 
necessarily,  and  yet  for  a  finite  duration  only:  which 
every  one  sees  to  be  a  plain  contradiction.  The  argu- 
ment is  likewise  the  same,  in  the  question  about  the 
original  of  motion.  Motion  cannot  be  necessarily 
existing;  because,  it  being  evident  that  all  determinations 
of  motion  are  equally  possible  in  themselves,  the  original 
determination  of  the  motion  of  any  particular  body  this 
way  rather  than  the  contrary  way,  could  not  be  necessarily 
in  itself,  but  was  either  caused  by  the  will  of  an  intelli- 
gent and  free  agent,  or  else  was  an  effect  produced  and 
determined  without  any  cause  at  all;  which  is  an  express 
contradiction:  as  I  have  shown  in  my  Demonstration  of 
the  Being  and  Attributes  of  God.  [Page  14,  edit.  4th 
and  5th;  page  12,  edit.  6th  and  7th.] 

To  the  second  head  of  argument,  I  answer:  Space  is 
a  property  [or  mode]  of  the  self-existent  substance;  but 
not  of  any  other  substances.  All  other  substances  are 
in  space,  and  are  penetrated  by  it;  but  the  self-existent 
substance  is  not  in  space,  nor  penetrated  by  it,  but  is 
itself  (if  I  may  so  speak)  the  substratum  of  space,  the 
ground  of  the  existence  of  space  and  duration  itself. 
Which  £space  and  duration]  being  evidcntl}1  necessary, 


DR  BUTLEK  AND  DR  CLARKE. 


297 


and  yet  themselves  not  substances,  but  properties  or 
modes,  show  evidently  that  the  substance,  without  which 
these  properties  could  not  subsist,  is  itself  much  more 
(if  that  were  possible)  necessary.  And  as  space  and 
duration  are  needful  (i.  e.  sine  qua  nori)  to  the  existence 
of  every  thing  else;  so  consequently  is  the  substance,  to 
which  these  properties  belong  in  that  peculiar  manner 
which  I  before  mentioned.  I  am,  Sir, 

Your  affectionate  friend  and  servant. 

Dec.  10,  1713. 

THE  FOURTH  LETTER. 

Reverend  Sir, 
Whatever  is  the  occasion  of  my  not  seeing  the  force  of 
your  reasonings,  I  cannot  impute  it  to  [what  you  do"] 
the  want  of  clearness  in  your  expression.  I  am  too  well 
acquainted  with  myself,  to  think  my  not  understanding 
an  argument,  a  sufficient  reason  to  conclude  that  it  is 
either  improperly  expressed,  or  not  conclusive;  unless  I 
can  clearly  show  the  defect  of  it.  It  is  with  the  greatest 
satisfaction  I  must  tell  you,  that  the  more  I  reflect  on 
your  first  argument,  the  more  I  am  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  it;  and  it  now  seems  to  me  altogether  unrea- 
sonable to  suppose  absolute  necessity  can  have  any 
relation  to  one  part  of  space  more  than  to  another;  and 
if  so,  an  absolutely  necessary  being  must  exist  every 
where. 

I  wish  I  was  as  veil  satisfied  in  respect  to  the  other. 
You  say,  "  All  substances,  except  the  self-existent  one, 
are  in  space,  and  are  penetrated  by  it."  All  substances 
doubtless,  whether  body  or  spirit,  exist  in  space:  but 
when  I  say  that  a  spirit  exists  in  space,  were  I  put 
upon  telling  my  meaning,  I  know  not  how  I  could  do  it 
any  other  way  than  by  saying,  such  a  particular  quantity 
of  space  terminates  the  capacity  of  acting  in  finite  spirits 
at  one  and  the  same  time;  so  that  they  cannot  act 
beyond  that  determined  quantity.  Not  but  that  I  think 
there  is  somewhat  in  the  manner  of  existence  of  spirits 
in  respect  of  space,  that  more  directly  answers  to  the 
manner  of  the  existence  of  body  ;  but  what  that  is,  or  of 


^98 


CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN 


the  manner  of  their  existence,  I  cannot  possibly  form  an 
idea.  And  it  seems  (if  possible)  much  more  difficult  to 
determine  what  relation  the  self- existent  Being  hath  to 
space.  To  say  he  exists  in  space,  after  the  same 
manner  that  other  substances  do  (somewhat  like  which 
I  too  rashly  asserted  in  my  last),  perhaps  would  be 
placing  the  Creator  too  much  on  a  level  with  the 
creature;  or  however,  it  is  not  plainly  and  evidently 
true:  and  to  say  the  self-existent  substance  is  the  sub- 
stratum of  space,  in  the  common  sense  of  the  word,  is 
scarce  intelligible,  or  at  least  is  not  evident.  Now 
though  there  may  be  a  hundred  relations  distinct  from 
either  of  these;  yet  how  we  should  come  by  ideas  of 
them,  I  cannot  conceive.  We  may  indeed  have  ideas 
to  the  words,  and  not  altogether  depart  from  the  common 
sense  of  them,  when  we  say  the  self-existent  substance 
is  the  substratum  of  space,  or  the  ground  of  its  existence: 
but  I  see  no  reason  to  think  it  true,  because  space  seems 
to  me  to  be  as  absolutely  self-existent,  as  it  is  possible 
any  thing  can  be:  so  that,  make  what  other  supposition 
you  please,  yet  we  cannot  help  supposing  immense 
space;  because  there  must  be  either  an  infinity  of  being, 
or  (if  you  will  allow  the  expression)  an  infinite  vacuity 
of  being.  Perhaps  it  may  be  objected  to  this,  that 
though  space  is  really  necessary,  yet  the  reason  of  its 
being  necessary  is  its  being  a  property  of  the  self-existent 
substance;  and  that  it  being  so  evidently  necessary,  and 
its  dependence  on  the  self-existent  substance  not  so 
evident,  we  are  ready  to  conclude  it  absolutely  self- 
existent,  as  well  as  necessary;  and  that  this  is  the  reason 
why  the  idea  of  space  forces  itself  on  our  minds,  ante- 
cedent to,  and  exclusive  of  (as  to  the  ground  of  its 
existence)  all  other  things.  Now  this,  though  it  is  really 
an  objection,  yet  is  no  direct  answer  to  what  I  have 
said:  because  it  supposes  the  only  thing  to  be  proved, 
viz.  that  the  reason  why  space  is  necessary  is  its  being 
a  property  of  a  self-existent  substance.  And  supposing 
it  not  to  be  evident,  that  space  is  absolutely  self-existent; 
yet,  while  it  is  doubtful,  we  cannot  argue  as  though  the 
contrary  were  certain,  and  we  were  sure  that  space  was 
only  a  property  of  the  se'f-existent  substance.  But 


DR  BUTLER  AND  DR  CLARKE. 


299 


now,  if  space  be  not  absolutely  independent,  I  do  not 
see  what  we  can  conclude  is  so:  for  it  is  manifestly 
necessary  itself,  as  well  as  antecedently  needful  to  the 
existence  of  all  other  things,  not  excepting  (as  I  think) 
even  the  self-existent  substance. 

All  your  consequences,  I  see,  follow  demonstrably 
from  your  supposition  ;  and,  were  that  evident,  I  believe 
it  would  serve  to  prove  several  other  things  as  well  as 
what  you  bring  it  for.  Upon  which  account,  I  should 
be  extremely  pleased  to  see  it  proved  by  any  one.  For, 
as  I  design  the  search  after  truth  as  the  business  of  my 
life,  I  shall  not  be  ashamed  to  learn  from  any  person; 
though,  at  the  same  time,  I  cannot  but  be  sensible,  that 
instruction  from  some  men  is  like  the  gift  of  a  prince,  it 
reflects  an  honour  on  the  person  on  whom  it  lays  an 
obligation.    I  am,  Reverend  Sir, 

Your  obliged  servant. 

Dec  16,  1713. 


•     THE  ANSWER  TO  THE  FOURTH  LETTER. 
Sir, 

Mv  being  out  of  town  most  part  of  the  month  of  January, 
and  some  other  accidental  avocations,  hindered  me  from 
answering  your  letter  sooner.  The  sum  of  the  difficulties 
it  contains  is,  I  think, this:  that  "it  is  difficult  to  deter- 
mine what  relation  the  self-existent  substance  has  to 
space :"  that  "  to  say  it  is  the  substratum  of  space,  in 
the  common  sense  of  the  word,  is  scarce  intelligible,  or, 
at  least,  is  not  evident:"  that  "space  seems  to  be  as 
absolutely  self-existent,  as  it  is  possible  any  thing  can 
be:"  and  that  "its  being  a  property  of  the  self-existent 
substance  is  supposing  the  thing  that  was  to  be  proved." 
This  is  entering  indeed  into  the  very  bottom  of  the 
matter;  and  I  will  endeavour  to  give  you  as  brief  and 
clear  an  answer  as  I  can. 

That  the  self-existent  substance  is  the  substratum  of 
space,  or  space  a  property  of  the  self-existent  substance, 
are  not  perhaps  very  proper  expressions:  nor  is  it  easy 
to  find  such.    But  what  J  mean  is  this:  The  idea  of 


300 


CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN 


space  (as  also  of  time  or  duration)  is  an  abstract  or 
partial  idea;  an  idea  of  a  certain  quality  or  relation, 
which  we  evidently  see  to  be  necessarily  existing ;  and 
yet  which  (not  being  itself  a  substance)  at  the  same  time 
necessarily  presupposes  a  substance,  without  which  it 
could  not  exist;  which  substance  consequently  must  be 
itself  (much  more,  if  possible)  necessarily  existing.  I 
know  not  how  to  explain  this  so  well  as  by  the  following 
similitude.  A  blind  man,  when  he  tries  to  frame  to 
himself  the  idea  of  body,  his  idea  is  nothing  but  that  of 
hardness.  A  man  that  had  eyes,  but  no  power  of  motion, 
or  sense  of  feeling  at  all;  when  he  tried  to  frame  to 
himself  the  idea  of  body,  his  idea  would  be  nothing  but 
that  of  colour.  Now  as,  in  these  cases,  hardness  is  not 
body,  and  colour  is  not  body;  but  yet,  to  the  under- 
standing of  these  persons,  those  properties  necessarily 
infer  the  being  of  a  substance,  of  which  substance  itself 
the  persons  have  no  idea:  so  space  to  us  is  not  itself 
substance,  but  it  necessarily  infers  the  being  of  a  sub- 
stance, which  affects  none  of  our  present  senses;  and, 
being  itself  necessary,  it  follows,  that  the  substance, 
which  it  infers,  is  (much  more)  necessary.  I  am,  Sir, 
Your  affectionate  friend  and  servant. 

Jan.  29,  1713. 

THE  FIFTH  LETTER. 

Reverend  Sir, 
You  have  very  comprehensively  expressed,  in  six  or 
seven  lines,  all  the  difficulties  of  my  letter;  which  I 
should  have  endeavoured  to  have  made  shorter,  had  I 
not  been  afraid  an  improper  expression  might  possibly 
occasion  a  mistake  of  my  meaning.  I  am  very  glad  the 
debate  is  come  into  so  narrow  a  compass;  for  I  think 
now  it  entirely  turns  upon  this,  whether  our  ideas  of 
space  and  duration  are  partial,  so  as  to  presuppose  the 
existence  of  some  other  thing.  Your  similitude  of  the 
blind  man  is  very  apt,  to  explain  your  meaning  (which 
I  think  I  fully  understand),  but  does  not  seem  to  come 
entirely  up  to  the  matter.  For  what  is  the  reason  that 
the   blind  man  concludes  there  must  be  somewhat 


DR  BUTLER  AND  DR  CLARKE. 


301 


exturial,  to  give  him  that  idea  of  hardness  ?  It  is  because 
he  supposes  it  impossible  for  him  to  be  thus  affected, 
unless  there  were  some  cause  of  it;  which  cause,  should 
it  be  remcved,  the  effect  would  immediately  cease  too; 
and  he  would  >^o  more  have  the  idea  of  hardness,  but  by 
remembrance,  Now  to  apply  this  to  the  instance  of 
space  and  duration ;  Since  a  man,  from  his  having  these 
ideas,  very  justly  'includes  there  must  be  somewhat 
external,  which  is  the  cause  of  them;  consequently, 
should  this  cause  (whatever  it  is)  be  taken  away,  his 
ideas  would  be  so  too :  therefore,  if  what  is  supposed  to 
be  the  cause  be  removed,  and  yet  the  idea  remains,  that 
supposed  cause  cannot  be  the  real  one.  Now,  granting 
the  self-existent  substance  to  be  the  substratum  of  these 
ideas,  could  we  make  the  supposition  of  its  ceasing  to  be, 
yet  space  and  duration  would  still  remain  unaltered : 
which  seems  to  show,  that  the  self-existent  substance  is 
not  the  substratum  of  space  and  duration.  Nor  would 
it  be  an  answer  to  the  difficulty,  to  say  that  every  pro- 
perty of  the  self-existent  substance  is  as  necessary  as  the 
substance  itself ;  since  that  will  only  hold,  while  the 
substance  itself  exists ;  for  there  is  implied,  in  the  idea 
of  a  property,  an  impossibility  of  subsisting  without  its 
substratum.  I  grant,  the  supposition  is  absurd:  but  how 
otherwise  can  we  know  whether  any  thing  be  a  property 
of  such  a  substance,  but  by  examining  whether  it  should 
cease  to  be,  if  its  supposed  substance  should  do  so  ? 
Notwithstanding  what  I  have  now  said,  I  cannot  say 
that  I  believe  your  argument  not  conclusive  ;  for  I  must 
own  my  ignorance,  that  I  am  really  at  a  loss  about  the 
nature  of  space  and  duration.  But  did  it  plainly  appear 
that  they  were  properties  of  a  substance,  we  should  have 
an  easy  way  with  the  atheists:  for  it  would  at  once 
prove  demonstrably  an  eternal,  necessary,  self-existenl 
Being;  that  there  is  but  one  such;  and  that  he  is  need- 
ful in  order  to  the  existence  of  all  other  things.  Which 
makes  me  think,  that  though  it  may  be  true,  yet  it  is  not 
obvious  to  every  capacity :  otherwise  it  would  have  been 
generally  used,  as  a  fundamental  argument  to  prove  the 
being  of  God. 

I  must  add  one  thing  more;  that  your  argument  for 
I 


CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN 


the  omnipresence  of  God  seemed  always  to  me  very 
probable.  But  being  very  desirous  to  have  it  appear 
demonstrably  conclusive,  I  was  sometimes  forced  to  say 
what  was  not  altogether  my  opinion:  not  that  I  did  this 
for  the  sake  of  disputing,  (for,  besides  the  particular 
disagreeableness  of  this  to  my  own  temper,  I  should 
surely  have  chosen  another  person  to  have  trifled  with;) 
but  I  did  it  to  set  off  the  objection  to  advantage,  that  it 
might  be  more  fully  answered.  I  heartily  wish  you  as 
fair  treatment  from  your  opponents  in  print,  as  I  have  had 
from  you;  though,  I  must  own,  I  cannot  see,  in  those 
that  I  have  read,  that  unprejudiced  search  after  truth, 
which  I  would  have  hoped  for. 

I  am,  Reverend  Sir, 

Your  most  humble  servant. 

Fek  3,  1713. 

THE  ANSWER  TO  THE  FIFTH  LETTER. 

Sir, 

In  a  multitude  of  business,  I  mislaid  your  last  letter, 
and  could  not  answer  it,  till  it  came  again  to  my  hands 
by  chance.  We  seem  to  have  pushed  the  matter  in 
question  between  us  as  far  as  it  will  go ;  and,  upon  the 
whole,  I  cannot  but  take  notice,  I  have  very  seldom  met 
with  persons  so  reasonable  and  unprejudiced  as  yourself, 
in  such  debates  as  these. 

I  think  all  I  need  say,  in  answer  to  the  reasoning  in 
your  letter,  is,  that  your  granting  the  absurdity  of  the 
supposition  you  were  endeavouring  to  make,  is  conse- 
quently granting  the  necessary  truth  of  my  argument. 
If*  space  and  duration  necessarily  remain,  even  after  they 
are  supposed  to  be  taken  away;  and  be  not  (as  it  is  plain 
they  are  not)  themselves  substances;  that  thet  substance, 

*  Ut  partiura  temporis  ordo  est  immutabilis,  sicetiam  ordo  parti  urn  spatii.  Movean- 
tur  hae  de  locis  suis,  et  movebuntur  (ut  ita  dicam)  de  seipsis.  Newton.  Pn'ncip. 
Mathemat.  t  hoi.  ad  definit.  8. 

f  Deus  non  est  asternitas  vel  infinitas,  sed  nterntis  et  infinitum,  non  est  duratio  vol 
spatium,  sed  durat  et  adesl.  Durat  semper,  et  adest  ubique  ;  et  existendo  semper  et 
ubiQiie,  durationem  et  spatium,  a-ternitatem  et  infinitalem,  constitute.  Cum  unaqtiaeqiif! 
spatii  particula  sit  semper  ;  et  ununiquouque  duraiionis  indivisibUe  momentum  ubique; 
certe  rt  rum  omnium  Fabricaior  ac  Dominus  non  erit  nunquam  misquam.  Omnipraa- 
sens  est,  non  per  virtutem  solam,  sed  etiam  per  substantial!!  :  nam  virtus  sine  substantia 
subsistere  non  potest  In  ipso  conlinentur  et. movent"*  "jliversa  Sec.  Newton.  I'nnctu. 
Ht-tUrrut.  Sckol.  general,  nth  A.»m 


DR  BUTLER  AND  DR  CLARKE. 


303 


on  whose  existence  they  depend,  will  necessarily  remain 
likewise,  even  after  it  is  supposed  to  be  taken  away: 
which  shows  that  supposition  to  be  impossible  and. 
contradictory. 

As  to  your  observation  at  the  end  of  your  letter;  that 
the  argument  I  have  insisted  on,  if  it  were  obvious  to 
every  capacity,  should  have  more  frequently  been  used 
as  a  fundamental  argument  for  a  proof  of  the  being  of 
God:  the  true  cause  why  it  has  been  seldom  urged,  is, 
I  think,  this ;  that  the  universal  prevalency  of  Cartes's 
absurd  notions  (teaching  that  *  matter  is  necessarily 
infinite  and  necessarily  eternal,  and  ascribing  all  things 
to  mere  mechanic  laws  of  motion,  exclusive  of  final 
causes,  and  of  all  will  and  intelligence  and  divine  Provi- 
dence from  the  government  of  the  world)  hath  incredibly 
blinded  the  eyes  of  common  reason,  and  prevented  men 
from  discerning  him  in  whom  they  live,  and  move,  and  have 
their  being.  The  like  has  happened  in  some  other 
instances.  How  universally  have  men  for  many  ages 
believed,  that  eternity  is  no  duration  at  all,  and  infinity 
no  amplitude!  Something  of  the  like  kind  has  happened 
in  the  matter  of  transubstantiation,  and,  I  think,  in  the 
scholastic  notion  of  the  Trinitv,  &c. 

I  am,  Sir, 
Your  affectionate  friend  and  servant. 

April  8,  1713. 

*  Fu'o  implicare  contradictionem,  ut  mundus  [meaning  the  material  world]  rit 
fcnitus     Carter.  Epitt.  69.  Partis  prinue. 


THE  END. 


